


Pilot Light

by L_Greene



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 60,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Greene/pseuds/L_Greene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU! It's Castiel Novak's 24th birthday and it sucks until he discovers that his brother Mikey has planned a party for him. His old high school best friend Anna shows up - with her boyfriend, Castiel's old flame Dean Wesson, and his twin sister Rachel in tow. What does the next year hold for the Novaks, the Wessons, and everyone else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birthday Blues

**Author's Note:**

> This is complete. I'm currently moving this over from FanFiction.net. In progress transfer, the piece is finished though!

"Hey! Get up!" Mikey's yelling was accompanied by a pounding on the door.

"It's my birthday, asshat!" Castiel yelled back. "Leave me alone!"

"Don't you have work?"

"Don't you have a life?" He had no desire to be awake right now. Still, Castiel reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and stumbled to the door. When he wrenched it open to snap something scathing at his brother, though, Mikey was already halfway down the stairs. Grumbling, he closed it again and went to his bathroom to shower.

He didn't have to be at work for another three hours, but now that he was awake, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until that night. He made a mental note to punch Mikey as he turned on the hot water.

A half-hour later, clean, dry, and fully dressed, albeit in sweats, he descended the stairs to the kitchen where Mikey was sitting. Crunching through a bowl of Cheerios and reading the newspaper, he didn't realize Castiel was there until the younger man banged a cabinet door.

"Jesus Christ, Cas! Make a little less noise, why don't you?" Mikey had dropped his spoon and rubbed his chest over his heart. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Why are you awake again?" Castiel asked. "Clearly, it wasn't to make me breakfast."

"What, I can't make sure you get to work on time?"

Castiel glared at his brother. "That can't be it, considering I've made it to work on time every day before this."

"Yeah, well, Jeremy said you were a bit late on Tuesday…"

Something about hearing his boss referred to by his first name deeply disturbed Castiel. "Don't call him that."

"You don't seriously call him Mr. Crowley, do you?"

"No, just Crowley." Castiel poured himself a bowl of Cheerios and splashed some milk in it. "Why would he have conceivably called you to complain about my attendance?"

"Fuck you."

Realizing he wasn't going to get a satisfactory answer out of him, he dropped the subject and absently started eating his cereal.

He finished about ten minutes later and looked back over at Mikey. By now, he'd basically abandoned his cereal and was flat-out studying an article on budget cuts for the state. His Cheerios were soggy, so Castiel picked up both their bowls and washed them out in the sink. When he let the cabinet door slam again, Mikey snapped out of his reverie.

"Hey, you wanna read the newspaper?" he asked, twisting in his seat and waving the paper.

"Not really." It's not that he had anything against newspapers—he just didn't like the one the city put out.

"Good." Mikey slid out of his seat and handed Castiel the paper. "Throw that in there. Don't be a litterbug."

Castiel opened the cabinet beneath the sink and tossed the paper in the blue bin. "Don't you have work today, too?"

Mikey scoffed, heading out of the kitchen. "Hardly. I go in for three hours, correct some papers, and get out of there. No big deal. It's not for another four hours anyway."

Castiel almost sighed. Mikey went up the stairs and slammed the door to his room, and he went to the living room and turned on the TV. His brother was lucky—he had most Fridays either completely off work or with shortened hours. He, however, was stuck working eight or nine hours most days.

Nothing was on, so he switched to the recorded TV menu. There were still a few episodes of _The Walking Dead_ he hadn't caught up on, so he queued the next one up and hit play.

" _Previously on AMC's_ The Walking Dead…" that ominous voice said, and Castiel felt himself relaxing into the sofa.

He only got to watch about five minutes, though, because his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He paused the show, fished out his phone, looked at the caller ID, and groaned internally. If Crowley was calling him, it wasn't a good thing.

"Morning, Crowley," he said, fighting the urge to sigh dramatically.

"Morning, Novak." Even through the phone, his light Scottish accent was still detectable. "How soon can you get here?"

"Um, I can be at work in a half-hour. Why? My shift doesn't start until eleven."

"Yeah, I need you to be here now. Meg called in and I'm a little short-staffed right now."

This time, Castiel actually did groan. "Come on, Crowley, it's my birthday. Cut me some slack."

"Oh, it's your birthday?" Crowley's suddenly-jovial tone put Castiel on edge, and for good reason, because his demeanor changed the next moment. "I don't give a rat's fucking ass if it's your birthday! I'm paying you to work, aren't I? I need you here now, so get moving!"

"Okay, Crowley," he said, fighting to keep the annoyance from his voice. He made a mental note to hit Meg the next time he saw her and turned off the TV.

He went back to his room and changed his clothes in record time, replacing his sweat pants and T-shirt with black slacks and a black dress shirt. As he shoved his feet into a pair of black Converse, his brother stuck his head out the door. "Where you off to?" Mikey asked.

"Work," Castiel grumbled, patting his pockets to check for his wallet and cell phone. "Crowley called me in early. The bastard."

"Sorry to hear that, little bro. Have fun!" he called cheerily, and closed the door to his room again.

It was his goddamn birthday, and his older brother was fucking with him. _Fuck my life._

He traipsed down the stairs and out the door to his beat-up Ford Ranger. He was just buckling up and adjusting his rearview when someone drummed on the window. Castiel jumped about a foot in his seat before cranking down the window. "What?" he snapped at the trickster standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Ooh, someone's touchy this morning," Gabe said, reaching into the truck to give Castiel a brotherly noogie. He reeked of cherry-flavored Jolly Ranchers. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Crowley just called me in two and a half hours early, that's what. I mean, bad enough that—hey!" he yelled, offended when Gabe started walking away toward the sidewalk.

"Go to work, Cassie!" Gabe called, waving at him and continuing past the house.

"Fuck you, too," Castiel grumbled, starting up the truck. _What a great start to my 24th birthday. Fuck this noise._

* * *

"It's Castiel Novak's birthday! Write on his Wall"


	2. Jeremy Crowley: Slave Driver

It was only ten, and already Castiel was ready to go back home.

When he got in an hour earlier, the first thing he saw was Crowley stalking through the restaurant, chatting up customers but looking extremely annoyed once there were none around to impress. Castiel tried to sneak by unnoticed, but Ruby called out, "Hey, Cas!" and Crowley's eyes zeroed in on the birthday boy.

"Novak, where have you been?" Crowley demanded, appearing near the door with almost preternatural speed.

 _Fuck!_ "I was at home, remember? It's not like I can just appear here."

Crowley wasn't about to yell at him in front of patrons, but he did give Castiel a look that said they would be talking more later. As soon as his boss stormed away, he slunk into the kitchen.

Only about twenty minutes later, he burned his left hand when the flame from pilot light went out and he went to light it again. Then he managed to slice into his right index finger while prepping someone's entrée. Uriel must have bumped into him four times and finally, Castiel dragged his sleeve across his forehead and said, "I'm getting some air." With that, he walked to the back door and stepped outside.

He regretted it almost immediately. It was the middle of July, after all, and it was quite possibly hotter out here than it was inside. He went back inside and went into the fridge to cool off, sitting on an overturned bucket. Better. He probably had a good five or ten minutes he could relax, so he hunched over and ran his fingers through his hair.

He was pretty sure he hadn't had a worse birthday in his life. At least last year, Crowley had let him take the day off, but then again, his birthday had fallen on a Wednesday the year before. Wednesday nights weren't typically that busy. Now he was stuck at work with a throbbing burn on his dominant hand and a cut that wasn't quite deep enough for stitches on his other.

He twisted his hands to stare at the bandages and sighed. He just wanted to go home and watch TV. He didn't care if he didn't have a party—Anna was coming in tomorrow and it would be the first time they'd seen each other in almost a year, and that was enough. That, and Gabe and Lu would probably come over like they did just about every other night.

And that was just fine.

Someone tapped on the door. Castiel's head snapped up and he locked eyes with Uriel. Uriel held up his wrist and pointed to his watch, the meaning clear: _you've been in there long enough._ Castiel nodded and slowly stood up. He popped his back before twisting the handle and going back to his stove.

At around three, Castiel made himself a sandwich wrap and ducked into the walk-in fridge for lunch. Ruby was there, too, eating a sandwich she'd brought from home.

It always amused Castiel how the fridge was the unofficial break room.

"Hey, what's up?" Ruby asked.

"Nothing." Castiel settled onto the floor, knowing the seat of his black pants would be dirty when he stood back up but genuinely not caring. "Just having the shittiest birthday of all time."

"Aw, hun, I'm sorry," she said. She gently ran her fingers over his hair once, then dropped her hand. "I didn't know it was your birthday."

Castiel shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. "It doesn't matter. I'm not doing anything to celebrate. I'd just rather be at home right now. At least Mikey doesn't seem to have it in for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Crowley. He called me in early because Meg didn't show. It's like he's throwing this colossal bitch-fit today. He's never been this big of a dick to me before."

"I think it's that time of the month for him," Ruby joked.

Castiel scoffed. "I wish I knew for sure. I didn't do anything to him. I just exist."

"He'll get over it. Hey," she added on sudden inspiration. "If you're not doing anything tonight, maybe you should come out to the Lord & Lady tonight. The owner's pretty cute and he'd probably give you a few free birthday shots."

He half-laughed, then took a swig of his Coke. "Maybe. I'll see if Gabe wants to go. He'd probably be okay with that."

"Who's Gabe again?"

"Friend of the family." Castiel paused. Something about the term didn't sound right when applied to the merry little prankster, so he clarified, "A friend of mine and Mikey's. He and Lu always used to hang out with us for some reason. I think it was because we were the only other kids around their age in the neighborhood. And then they never left." Which wasn't quite true—Lu had actually moved out of the neighborhood but his apartment was so close that he might as well not have. Gabe, meanwhile, had moved out of his parents' house but stayed in the neighborhood—practically the same block.

"And Lu is…?"

"Gabe's best friend. So I guess he's sort of mine and Mikey's friend too, although Mikey can't stand him for more than five minutes at a time." Castiel's tolerance for Lu was higher than Mikey's—Lu and Mikey had clashed for as long as they'd known each other, but Castiel was a little more laid-back than his brother. Lu's snarky comments bothered him a bit, but they didn't infuriate him like they did Mikey.

Ruby finished off her sandwich and a bottle of water before standing up and wiping her hands off on the inside of her apron. "Well, I hope the rest of your birthday goes better than it has so far, and hopefully, I'll see you tonight."

"Oh, yeah, where is the… Lord & Lady, right?"

"Yeah, the L&L. It's over at Winchester and Lawrence."

"Oh, I think I've seen it before."

"Probably. It's closer to your place than here is."

Castiel shrugged.

* * *

About ten minutes later, he went out to his truck and turned on the radio. After a few minutes of channel surfing, he came to the conclusion that there was nothing good on and turned it back off. He had another fifteen minutes left on his lunch, and he had no idea what to do. He wanted to nap, but his body wouldn't let him and there was no guarantee he'd wake up on time if he did. Finally, he settled for pulling out his phone and playing Tetris.

His last fifteen minutes passed quickly, and he was feeling a little better about the next three and a half hours of work by the time he pocketed his phone and slid out of his truck. He quickly smacked the back of his pants to rid them of dust and slunk to the front door again. Just as he reached the handle, the door opened and a slightly taller, rather attractive man strolled out. Castiel had just enough time to take in his dark blond hair, blue eyes, and gray V-neck shirt under a black jacket—and notice that he was glancing over Castiel as well with a faint smirk—before he kept walking.

Castiel just stood there. He wasn't quite certain, but he could have sworn the guy checked him out. He wasn't used to attention, either from males or females, because it seemed he'd only grown into his looks in the past two or three years. He didn't think he'd ever get used to someone eyefucking him—not like Mikey, who always turned heads and always had.

He made it back to the kitchen without Crowley noticing him and tied his apron back around his waist. All he wanted to do was finish up here and go home to spend the rest of his birthday in peace. That's all he wanted.

* * *

_"Castiel Novak just checked into Work :("_


	3. Surprise Party Indeed

When Castiel finally pulled up in front of his house, it was nearly eight and he was exhausted. He'd gotten off work twenty minutes late and it had been the crowning end to a shitty birthday. He was hungry, too, but he decided he'd wait until he saw Mikey and try to sweet-talk him into buying dinner. He was in no mood to cook anymore.

He unlocked the front door but paused before twisting the doorknob. It was too quiet in there—Gabe usually had the TV going full blast by the time he got home from work, which meant he wasn't here. And if Gabe wasn't here, Lu sure as shit wasn't here, either—not with his relationship with Mikey. He hoped his brother was actually here, but he was beginning to realize that it was possible the universe just hated him right now and he would spend the rest of his birthday drinking alone.

He walked inside, locked the door behind him, and dropped his keys on the shelf next to the door. Sighing audibly, he went to the TV room but only made it two more steps.

"SURPRISE!" a chorus of voices yelled as the lights flicked on, nearly knocking Castiel over in surprise.

He quickly located his brother at the front of the small mob. "You fucker!" he laughed and pulled Mikey into a hug as the rest of the mob started moving around. He heard the back door slide open and knew a few people had went out back.

"Happy birthday, bro! Sorry about the bullshit," Mikey answered, also laughing.

"What, you mean waking me up early?"

"Well, that, and getting you called into work."

"Wait, what?"

"Sorry, Cas," Crowley's voice said, and the man appeared from behind Mikey. He no longer looked irritated and was, in fact, giving him a genuine smile. "Your brother wanted to make absolutely sure your day was a load of crap, so he asked me to bring you in early."

Castiel probably would have hit Mikey if he wasn't laughing so hard.

"Hey, I went all-out for this crap. You'll never guess who else is here!"

"Who—" Castiel's voice went from suspicion to surprise. "Anna!" he cried when the redhead took her cue and hurried over. Crowley, meanwhile, took his opportunity to bow out. "What are you—I thought you weren't coming in until tomorrow!"

She gave him a big hug and then pulled back, beaming. "Mikey started planning this a month ago. He asked me to lie to you about my plans. Sorry!"

"Don't worry, I'm not mad. Now that I know it's all been an elaborate ruse," he added, shooting a mock-stern glance at Mikey.

"Oh, by the way, I brought my boyfriend along," Anna said. "I wanted you to meet him for real."

"For real?"

"Yeah, remember Dean Wesson from high school?"

The bottom dropped out of Castiel's stomach. Did he remember Dean Wesson? How could he _not_?

Dean had gone to high school with them, a senior when they were sophomores. Back then, he'd been the handsome track star who had been crowned Homecoming King. Anyone with any inclination towards guys wanted him. His green eyes had been bright and happy, and his full lips had always been quirked into a smile. He wasn't a stuck-up jock; he was genuinely nice. Everyone liked him.

Naturally, Castiel had had it bad for him, but back then, he didn't like telling anyone, even his best friends, who he was into, so Anna never knew.

 _Maybe he grew out of his looks_ , Castiel half-hoped, but he knew it was unlikely. _Maybe he won't affect me anymore._

"Uh, yeah, I remember him."

"Oh, good. Hey, Dean!"

Dean turned, grinned, and started walking toward them. Castiel felt shattered—not only did his smile still make his stomach fluttery and his knees turn to Jell-O, but he had gotten even more handsome in the eight years since he'd seen him. _Damn it._

"Hey, Castiel, happy birthday," Dean said, holding out his hand with that bright smile still on his face.

 _He knows my name!_ He quickly caught himself. _Of course he does. He's dating Anna._ "Thanks, Dean," he said, hoping his voice hadn't betrayed his nerves as he shook Dean's hand. It was big and warm and soft and the ring he'd always worn in high school, the one on his ring finger, dug into the heel of his wrist and Castiel wanted to melt. "So, Anna, how long are you guys staying?" _Please let Dean be going back soon._

"We're staying until the end of the summer at least. We're gonna crash here tonight and then we were planning on renting an apartment. We may be here longer if I can find a job."

Castiel nodded. "That sounds good," he said awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say.

"What happened to your hands?"

Dean's question was abrupt and startled him. "Burn," he said, holding up his left hand. "Cut." He held up his right.

"Wow. You really haven't been having a good day, huh?"

He shook his head mutely.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab a beer. Anyone else want one?" Dean asked, seeming to sense Castiel's discomfort.

The other three shook their heads; Mikey shook his so violently that he had to shove his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"Okay…" Dean glanced around one more time and skittered off.

Anna looked from Castiel to Mikey for a moment before she seemed to recall something else. "Hey, Cas, you'll never guess who else showed up! Come on!" With that, she grabbed his hand and tugged him away from Mikey, who just laughed and went to the backyard as well.

"Hey!" Anna chirped again, tapping an extremely tall, muscular, long-haired someone on the shoulder. When he turned, Castiel had to struggle to place the face, which looked vaguely familiar, but it hit him as soon as the other man smiled.

"Sam? Sam Smith? Is that you?" Castiel couldn't believe his eyes. He, Sam, and Anna had been the terrible trio in high school, but after graduation when he went to New York, Sam went straight to work, and Anna went to USC Berkeley, they'd drifted apart. In fact, he hadn't even seen Sam once since graduation.

He had a feeling Sam hadn't changed much, personality-wise, but somehow in the last six years, the scrawny little boy—smaller at one time than Castiel's plateau height of five-foot-ten—had shot up to six-foot-four and was now entirely muscle. Castiel found himself momentarily dumbstruck, and then he laughed. "Holy shit, Sam! What the hell happened?"

Sam laughed, too. "I wish I knew. It felt like, one day I was all tiny and whatever, and the next day I woke up and I was _huge_." Then he realized how that sounded and he doubled over laughing.

 _That_ was indeed the Sam that Castiel remembered. He and Anna couldn't help but join in laughing with Sam, and for a moment, they were sixteen again.

Sam quickly reached out and gave Castiel a brief, crushing hug before releasing him. "It's great to see you, man. You've been doing okay?"

"Yeah, I can't complain too much. Where have you been?"

"Well, here and there. I was over in Michigan working in one of the Ford plants for awhile, but they moved me here about six months ago, and I just… I'm sorry, Cas, I didn't realize you were still around."

"Yeah, we kind of lost contact, huh?"

"Yeah. But, hey! The three of us should hang out again! I mean, since you're staying for another two months or so," Sam added to Anna.

"Of course! I'm all for nostalgic teenage moments. That is, if you're okay with it, Cas," she said quickly.

Castiel nodded. "Naturally." _As long as your boyfriend is nowhere near us._ "We should probably swap numbers, then, huh? So we can actually set something up and not just talk about it."

The other two nodded and laughed in agreement, and they pulled out their phones to update the others' contact information. Once they had stowed their phones again, Anna gave Castiel a hug. "I'm gonna go find Dean—I know we went to high school, at least for a few years, with all these chuckleheads, but he still probably doesn't feel like he's fitting in. I'll be back in a bit."

Castiel nodded as she left and as if on cue, his stomach gave a loud growl. "Hey, Sam, is there food?"

"Yeah, I think your brother and some guy named Ray are outside doing the barbecue thing. I'll be out in a little while."

"Okay. See you later!" he called, feeling more cheerful as he passed Gabe and Lu—the former sitting next to a table, the latter actually sitting on the table with his feet on the chair—and headed outside.

* * *

_"What's on your mind?"_


	4. Nature's First Green is Gold

Gabe glanced at Castiel as the birthday boy passed him and Lu, then his eyes retraced his steps backward to the moose-like man to whom Castiel had just been talking. "Doesn't that guy look familiar?" he asked Lu.

Lu cocked his head to the side and squinted. "A little bit. But I can't figure out where I know him."

"Yeah, you'd think you'd remember someone like that." Gabe fished a 3 Musketeers bar out of his pocket and realized what his comment and half-admiring tone sounded like when Lu shot him a slightly puzzled look. He added quickly, "I mean, he's a big guy. It's distinctive."

He tore open the wrapper and bit the top half-inch of the candy bar off. Lu rolled his eyes. "Could you please eat that normally?"

"Fuck you," Gabe said good-naturedly and started skinning the chocolate layer away from the whipped center with his teeth.

"It's distracting."

"Then don't look."

"If only it were that easy."

Gabe reached up with his free hand and smacked the back of Lu's head. "I know I'm devastatingly handsome, but please try to keep it in your pants this evening. This is Cassie's party, not ours."

"Ha-ha-ha," Lu said sarcastically.

"Hang on a second—didn't we go to high school with that guy?" Gabe asked, finally placing the stranger's face after a few moments of silence.

Lu furrowed his brow and pondered for a moment. "Yeah, I think so, actually," he said, comprehension dawning on his face. "But fuck me if I can remember his name." He couldn't help noticing that there was a good two inches of chocolate-less mousse on Gabe's candy bar now.

"Well, let's ask him. Hey! Big guy!" The last three words, Gabe yelled, and just about everyone turned around, giving him scandalized looks, but fortunately, the intended target also turned and didn't seem offended. When Gabe waved him over, he left the girl to whom he had been talking— _Is that Rachel Wesson?_ he wondered wildly—and approached them.

"Hey." He sounded puzzled, and Gabe felt a funny jolt that he couldn't quite explain. "Do I know you?"

"Uh, not really, but I think we went to high school together. Gabe Speight."

"Oh, yeah, you were two years ahead of me. Sam Smith." He shook Gabe's hand and couldn't help but notice the way he was eating his 3 Musketeers bar. "That's… unusual."

Gabe bit off the exposed filling and then resumed skinning the bar, aiming a mischievous grin at Sam.

"He's a freak," Lu said. "Lu Pellegrino."

Sam shook his hand, too, an embarrassed smile crossing his face. "Oh, yeah, I _definitely_ remember you. Mostly the rumor that 'Lu' is short for 'Lucifer.'" He paused, giving him a half-disbelieving, half-embarrassed look, as if he couldn't quite get over what he was about to say next. "It's not, right?"

Lu closed his eyes and sighed, running his hand over the dark reddish-blond scruff on his cheeks. He always got strange looks introducing himself by his full name in kindergarten, so he quickly learned to shorten it to just "Lu." Still, it had come in handy once to have his frankly disturbing name. He had to admit that if he'd had a normal name like Joseph or Mark, he wouldn't have been ostracized by everyone but Gabe, which led to their becoming friends. Gabe had been so contrary and obnoxious as a child—fuck, he _still_ was—that he hadn't cared that Lu had a strange name and, in fact, thought it was cool. Without it, he wouldn't have had his partner in crime. He opened his eyes. "Unfortunately, yes, my first name is actually Lucifer."

"Wow. I am so sorry to hear that."

"My parents thought it was a good idea at the time."

He couldn't help laughing. "That's just terribly unfortunate."

"Yeah. Now imagine me trying to pass the bar with that name." Lu himself couldn't help a faint smile at the memory of trying to register under "Pellegrino, comma, Lucifer."

Sam finally noticed the quizzical look Gabe was giving him, his olive-green eyes narrowed in bemusement. "What?"

"You're not the Sam Smith that used to hang out with Cas all the time, are you?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"No fucking way! You were like this tall!" he laughed, holding his hand up to a spot about level to his sight line. "You got big," he said, sounding almost appreciative. "What happened, man? Start eating your Wheaties?"

"Everyone asks me that, but I honestly have no idea what happened. It's like, one day I woke up and it was like, 'What the fuck happened?'" Sam laughed. "No one recognizes me anymore, either."

That laugh sent something dull and humming through him. His voice lowered in volume and timbre. "I sort of recognized you," Gabe said. "I mean, I knew I saw you somewhere before. I just…" His eyes fully locked with Sam's hazel ones and he felt tingling at the back of his neck. For a few long moments, he forgot what he was trying to say, his thoughts scattering like spilled Skittles, and all he could focus on was Sam's eyes and his own quickening heartbeat. Then Lu cleared his throat and Gabe ignored the light flush creeping up his neck and he finished, "I just couldn't place you. That's all."

"It's all in the face," Lu joked, waving a hand in front of his own. Neither Gabe nor Sam blinked for another few moments; their eyes never left each other's faces, and Lu felt something nameless and unpleasant and unwelcome well up inside him. He suddenly wished he had something to distract himself, like a bottle of beer so he could take a swig.

"Hey, was that Rachel Wesson you were talking to over there?" Gabe asked abruptly, and Lu was fairly relieved with the change of topic.

"Huh?" Sam still seemed to be coming out of his reverie. "Oh, yeah, that's her."

"What's she doing here? I didn't know she was friends with Cas." Gabe's eyes were still sharply focused on Sam, but at least he was blinking now.

Lu felt awkward suddenly. He slowly slid from his seat on the table and slunk away toward the backyard. He wouldn't be surprised if it took Gabe twenty minutes to notice he'd gone.

"She's friends with Anna Singer, actually. And she's Dean's sister. So Mikey said she could come. I think he just wanted as many people here as possible—I can't think of any other reason he would have invited Cas's freaking _boss_."

Sam grinned, then asked before he could help himself, "What have you been doing since high school? Did you go to college?"

"Sort of. I have a criminal justice degree but that's because I'm a cop."

Sam almost toppled over from shock, and Gabe noticed and laughed.

"I know, right? Lu and I spent most of our last two years of high school drunk or stoned out of our minds, and now he's a lawyer and I'm a cop. It's crazy, right?"

Sam laughed again and Gabe felt that same feeling wash over him. He tried to shove it down, no matter how pleasant it felt because _damn it_ , it was distracting, but he couldn't restrain the smile on his face when he said, "What about you? What did you end up doing with your life?"

"Well, I'm working in a Ford plant right now. Not that impressive, I know, but I'm saving up to start going to vet school again. I just have a little more college debt to work off first."

"How many years did you have done?"

"Two. Vet school's expensive, man," Sam said jovially, even though it most definitely wasn't a joke. "But I can't wait to go back. I plan on specializing in large animals."

"Why?"

"Well, because, they're easier to work on, for one thing—at least in terms of there's more to work with, because they're definitely more dangerous because of their size—but also because all these vets go to school to work on dogs and cats and domesticated animals, all the cute and fluffies, the ones that everyone likes, but those aren't the ones I like. I like the odd ones." He grinned again.

Gabe swallowed imperceptibly, his candy bar forgotten on the table next to him. "So where would you work with a large-animal specialty?"

"Zoos, aquariums, ranches, farms… I could also probably get a job working abroad for the World Wildlife Organization."

"That sounds… amazing."

Sam grinned, nodded, glanced at where Lu had been sitting. "Hey," he said, confusion stealing across his features, "he left."

He and Gabe twisted around, looking, and finally Gabe caught sight of Lu's dark-green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his back to the door, outside and overseeing Ray flipping something over on the barbecue. "He's out there. When the hell did he leave?"

Sam shrugged. "No idea."

Gabe felt his stomach sink. Lu was a good guy, but he could get pissed about the weirdest things. "I should go find out what's up," he murmured, not really wanting to leave Sam but knowing a bit of damage control was probably required. He stood up.

"I'll be out there in a couple minutes," Sam said, smiling, and Gabe couldn't help but smile back.

* * *

_"Samuel Smith and Gabriel Speight are now friends."_


	5. Different Shades of Blue

"Hey, Cas! Want a burger?" Ray asked cheerfully, turning toward him and twirling the flipper in his fingers.

"Make him two. He's too skinny," Mikey said. He tossed a few more burgers from a small covered dish and onto the grill and picked up his plate. He already had a generous heap of potato salad.

"Dude, do you not eat or something? Don't you work at a freaking _restaurant_?" Ray pointed out.

"I eat. I eat _all the time_. I just… burn it off. Hey, once you can explain how Gabe practically shovels sugar into his mouth and never gains weight, then you can explain _my_ scrawny ass," Castiel said.

Mikey leaned back against the grill, a huge Weber one with three burners and a retractable shelf on each side. "Dude's a cop," he said simply, shoving a forkful of potato salad in his mouth. "He's at the gym every freaking day."

Castiel rolled his eyes and went to fish a beer out of the cooler next to the grill.

"Nah, but seriously, man, happy birthday," Ray added.

"Hey, get me one of those, too," Mikey said, setting his plate behind him.

Castiel grabbed another beer and handed it to Mikey. "Thanks, Ray. What's the ETA on those burgers?"

"Give me like two fuckin' minutes, man," Ray laughed. "I just put the damn things on."

"Hey, I didn't say 'burn them to a crisp.' I like them bloody inside."

Mikey raised his gaze to the sky, half-grinning as he pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.

Castiel didn't leave; he stood by the grill, by his brother, taking swigs of his beer until Ray sighed.

"Just… go fucking mingle or something," he said finally, getting tense with Castiel hovering behind him. "Go do something. I don't know what, just go. I'll call you when they're ready."

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned away from the grill, scanning around the backyard. Dean and Anna were talking to Uriel, who'd gotten off work an hour before him, Crowley was talking to—

Castiel's stomach jolted. It was the man he'd practically collided with after lunch. Definitely him—same hair, same eyes, same gray V-neck shirt. Before he could think about it, his feet were carrying him to Crowley and the stranger.

He noticed Castiel before Crowley did, and a slow smirk crossed his face. "Hi, there. Castiel, isn't it?" he asked, his voice colored by his British accent.

Castiel had a thing for British accents.

"Uh, yeah, but you can call me Cas if you want. And you are…?"

"Novak, this is my cousin, and I…" Crowley glanced from his cousin to Castiel and back. "Will be leaving now," he finished. "Oi! That burger ready yet?" he called, heading toward Ray.

"I'm Taz Lords," Crowley's cousin said. He continued smirking as he shook Castiel's hand.

"Taz? That's a bit unusual."

"It's short."

"For?"

Taz chuckled. "For a rather embarrassing given name."

"Can't be any more embarrassing than Lucifer," Castiel pointed out.

"Who the hell is Lucifer?"

Grinning in spite of himself, Castiel pointed through the window at Lu's back, noticing briefly that he and Gabe were talking to Sam. "That guy. The one sitting on the table. He goes by 'Lu,' though."

Taz appeared contemplative for a moment. "Balthazar."

"Come again?"

"My given name is Balthazar. But that isn't important. How old are you now?"

"Twenty-four."

"So young. How'd you end up working for Jeremy?"

"I graduated from the Culinary Institute of America. One of my instructors was friends with him and gave him my name right after he opened his restaurant since he knew I'm from the area." Castiel shrugged. "He likes my work. It's not that complicated."

"Yes, it all sounds very straightforward." He grinned again, his blue-eyed gaze somehow capturing Castiel's.

"And what do you do for a living?"

"Jeremy and I are in related businesses. I own a bar. It's right downtown, actually—not too far from his place. It's called the Lord & Lady."

"Wait, really? My friend Ruby invited me there later tonight," he said, unable to suppress a laugh or look away from Taz's face. He had been quite attractive in the early afternoon, but with the light from the setting sun, he looked almost heavenly, and his eyes looked to be an even deeper shade of blue than he originally thought.

"Well, then, I'd say she has excellent taste. Now that you mention it, I do seem to recall a young woman named Ruby coming by a few nights a week. If you do decide to drop by, let me know and I'll make sure you get a few drinks on the house."

That cocky, devilish smile of Taz's made Castiel's cheeks go pink with something he couldn't quite identify. "Thank you."

"No trouble at all. Call it a birthday present."

* * *

"Oh, fuck," Ray muttered, sliding Castiel's burgers from the flame to the farthest side of the grill.

"What happened?" Mikey asked. He twisted his torso to look at the grill.

"Cas said he liked his burgers bloody, right?"

"Medium rare. He'll get worms otherwise."

"These—" Ray lifted a burger with the flipper and held it under Mikey's nose "—are definitely well-done."

Mikey shrugged and grabbed a bun. He clapped the slices on either side of the burger and slid it off the flipper. "I'll eat this one. Fob the other one off on someone else. And make two more. What about those?" he added, pointing at the patties that had just gone on about a minute before.

"Fine. I still feel like an asshole, though."

"They're just burgers. Relax." Mikey took a huge bite of his burger. "Needs some A-1."

"Don't look at me, man. I'm grilling." Ray turned to call Castiel over, but his words got caught in his throat. "Mikey, look. Is it just me, or is Cas _blushing_?"

Mikey looked. "Yeah, he's blushing. Looks like he's into that Taz guy. Good thing, too. I haven't heard him mention anyone romantically in months."

Ray gave him a "bitch-please" face as he went back to the grill.

"Okay," Mikey laughed, " _years_. Like two now. It's kind of sad, actually. He needs to date."

"Well, at least his taste is still intact. I'd be worried if Cas was into a total loser."

"You mean a whale?"

Ray laughed, too. "Yeah, I guess. That guy has style, though. Good thing you invited Jeremy, huh?"

"Yeah. Even better that he thought to invite his cousin. Hey, those burgers ready yet?"

"Yeah, hang on. Cas!" This last word, Ray yelled, twisting around.

Taz's eyes flicked toward them briefly, but Castiel hadn't appeared to hear Ray. Mikey furrowed his brow and let out a piercing whistle.

This got Castiel's attention. He turned and, realizing who it was, quickly excused himself from Taz and hurried over. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I guess I got distracted."

Mikey grinned. "No big deal, little bro. It's good that you were flirting."

Castiel went even redder. "I wasn't _flirting_ , I was _talking_ ," he hissed.

"Come on, Cas, you know I don't care about that shit. It's all good."

"Your burgers are ready," Ray added, sliding them onto a plate and handing it to the birthday boy.

"Thanks." He accepted the plate and glanced back at Taz, who had moved to where Anna, Dean, and Uriel were still chatting. He figured that someone who shared _some_ of Crowley's genes and who was in nearly the same business would be just as outgoing—randomly striking up conversations with total strangers was something Crowley did on a daily basis, and it stood to reason that Taz would, too.

"Hey, who's that redhead again?" Ray asked suddenly, following Castiel's gaze but zeroing in on Anna.

"That's Anna Singer, a friend from high school."

"She's pretty hot."

"She's standing next to her boyfriend," Castiel pointed out. He somehow managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"That's disappointing. Oh, well. Hey, there's lots of potato salad left."

Castiel nodded without really hearing and absently took a bite from one of his burgers. His eyes kept straying from Dean to Taz and he couldn't figure out what was going on inside his own damn head.

He heard the back door open and close, and a moment later, Mikey brushed past him, plate in hand as he readjusted his glasses, strolling towards the mob Taz had just joined. Wondering what could have caused his abrupt departure, Castiel turned and his question was immediately answered.

Lu was standing next to Ray, looking vaguely irritated. "Burn 'em," he muttered, letting Ray slide a charcoal-black burger onto another plate. Castiel knew Lu personally was ambivalent toward Mikey—it was Mikey who could barely stand Lu—but something had happened to put that pissed look on his face.

He just wasn't fool enough to find out.

Fortunately, Gabe was, and he joined them outside about a minute afterward just as Lu pulled a beer out of the cooler.

"Hey, man, what's going on?" Gabe asked softly, and Castiel suddenly had the feeling that he shouldn't be listening. He scooted around to Ray's other side, spooned a generous amount of potato salad onto his plate, and went inside, where Anna's father Bobby was talking to Rachel Wesson.

 _Fuck._ He hadn't realized she was here. There was an unpleasant jolt in his stomach as he remembered that Bobby Singer didn't typically bond with people outside of his family, yet here he was, chatting quite comfortably with his daughter's boyfriend's twin sister. _Fuck!_

This wasn't how the evening was supposed to turn out. He slunk past them and into the kitchen, leaning his back against the counter and staring at the cake on the table without really seeing it.

* * *

_"Balthazar Lords and Castiel Novak are now friends."_


	6. Oddly Perceptive

"Hey, man, what's going on?" Gabe asked softly.

"Nothing." Lu's voice was icy and Gabe could tell he was lying. It was written all over his face, but he punctuated his one-word answer by twisting the top off his beer and taking a long pull.

"Ah, _that_ explains why you just took off in the middle of a conversation. Very polite, Lu. Your people skills are flawless. I'm impressed."

"I was hungry. What was I supposed to do, starve or something?"

"Stop being so dramatic. You're pissed about something—I can tell."

Lu's blue eyes flashed dangerously and normally, Gabe wouldn't think twice about pushing his buttons, pissing off his best friend even further, but this time, there was a voice at the back of his head saying he wouldn't like where Lu would go if he pressed him even though he knew—he _knew_ —they had to talk. As much as he didn't care about Lu's reaction, though, he knew especially that this wasn't the place to do this—Gabe genuinely did want Castiel to have a nice birthday, and having a fight right in the middle of it wasn't the way to do it.

Which probably explained why Mikey vanished from the grill where Gabe knew he'd been a few minutes ago.

"Okay, fine, relax." Gabe held in a sigh as something stirred in the corner of his vision and he and Lu both turned toward it.

He thought he knew everyone at this party—or at least _of_ everyone here—but he didn't recognize this dark-blond-haired pretty boy strolling toward them. He turned his head toward Lu to make some snarky comment on this guy's V-neck because that's what they did, they busted people's chops, they made fun of people, but Lu's expression had completely shifted.

His eyes were no longer narrowed with barely-suppressed anger—they were now calm. Soft wasn't the right word, but it was the first one that came to mind. He quickly ran his hand through his hair as the stranger grinned at him, glanced at Gabe, and said in his quirky British accent, "Evening, gents. Taz Lords."

Lu grinned, too, and it was a completely foreign look to Gabe, an expression he'd never seen his friend wear before. "Lu Pellegrino," he said, shaking Taz's hand.

"Ah, yes, Cas mentioned you. Specifically that 'Lu' is short for 'Lucifer.'" His grin turned more mischievous. "Correct?"

Lu smiled in spite of the recurring question of the evening and sighed, "Yes, that's correct."

"I bet you get asked that all the time."

"Not as often as you'd think. Tonight's been an exception."

Taz nodded, still smiling, but it slipped ever so slightly as he shifted his focus to Gabe. "And you are…?"

"Gabe Speight." He shook Taz's hand quickly.

"Well, pleasure to meet you gentlemen. Tell me, how do you know the birthday boy?"

"Well, we kinda grew up in this neighborhood and there weren't really any kids our age around besides Mikey and Cas, so we kind of gravitated toward them," Lu started.

"Although Mikey really can't stand Lu for extended amounts of time," Gabe joked.

Lu quickly took a swig of his beer before continuing. "Right. But that really didn't come up until high school because they went to a different elementary and middle school. And even then, Mikey was two years ahead of us, so he didn't really have to deal with us all that much. But we still kept spending time at their house and annoying the piss out of Mikey in the meantime, but Cas doesn't mind us."

"What's this 'us' shit?" Gabe asked, his tone jovial. "It's _you_ Mikey doesn't like, not _us_. He likes _me_ just fine."

"Okay, fine, Cas doesn't mind _me_. But Mikey does."

"Why?"

Lu shrugged. "Hell if I know. I have nothing against the guy, and I don't think I did anything to piss him off, did I?" He directed this question at Gabe.

"No more so than anyone else we talked to. It's probably just a personality thing."

"Yeah. But he tolerates me because he likes Gabe and Cas likes me."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"And how do you know Cas?" Lu asked.

"Well, I don't, not really. But his boss, Jeremy Crowley, is my cousin, and I had nothing else planned for the evening so I decided to tag along."

"And you had nothing else better to do with your Friday night than come to a birthday party for a total stranger?" Gabe struggled to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Taz shrugged. "I enjoy meeting new people. I'd say it's worked out well for me so far. There's a lot of… interesting people here." His light-blue gaze drifted over to Lu on the word _interesting_ , and Gabe could read between the lines; he wasn't an idiot. "Besides, it was either this or work, and I didn't feel like working tonight."

"And where do you work that you can just decide to take a night off?" Lu's tone was light and teasing, and Gabe had to suppress the urge to vomit. He'd never witnessed Lu actually _flirting_ before—and pickup lines at bars didn't count.

"Ah, I own a bar. Part of the reason I like meeting new people—it's always good for business. Plus, I like to mess with people's heads."

"How so?"

Taz grinned. "I can deduce what people do for a living just by looking at them."

Gabe scoffed, grinning in disbelief. "Okay, then. Prove it."

He looked Gabe over for a few moments, his head cocked to the left, his smile small but searching. He tapped his fingertip against his chin and then straightened his head. "You're a cop."

The confident smirk slid off Gabe's face. "How'd you figure that out?"

"Well, my biggest clue was that you're carrying."

Gabe gritted his teeth. Most people didn't know he always had his gun on him, and he preferred it that way. It certainly wasn't something he wanted spread around. "Okay, what else?"

"The way you're standing. It's reminiscent of either military or police. Then there's the immediate distrust of strangers—and yes, I know you don't trust me—and you look like you're in good shape." He shrugged. "It seemed like the most logical guess."

Lu grinned at Gabe's pout. "Oh, stop it. So what if he has you pegged?"

He glared at Lu before turning back to Taz. "Okay, what does _he_ do?"

Gabe immediately regretted his question because Taz had now basically been given permission to let his gaze wander over Lu for as long as he wanted, although his friend didn't seem to mind. He tipped his head again, slowly looking Lu over from head to toe and even taking a step back, a half-smile of concentration twisting his features ever so slightly.

He took longer than Gabe expected but finally he un-tilted his head and grinned, his bright blue eyes dancing with mischief. "You're a tricky one, Lu. You almost had me completely baffled. However, I can now say with a fair amount of certainty that you're a lawyer."

Even Gabe was impressed. After Lu managed to rein in his shock, he asked, "And how did you figure that out?"

"This time? Just a hunch. Honestly, not much gave it away except for… something behind your eyes, but that only indicated intelligence. In fact, the—ah—scruff—" and here, Taz gestured to Lu's cheek, indicating the reddish-blond beard "—might have denoted something less clerical, more informal. I'm assuming you're not a corporate lawyer?"

"No, I'm a defense attorney, but typically I settle my cases out of court, which is great for me because the less time I spend in a suit, the better."

"But you look ravishing in a suit!" Gabe joked.

Lu rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "I look ravishing in whatever I wear. When are you going to get this?"

Taz couldn't restrain a snort of laughter, and the sound made Lu veritably flush with pleasure. The Brit had smiled and grinned the whole time, but it was the first time he'd actually laughed.

"Well, gentlemen, it's been fun, but I must take my leave now." Taz shook Gabe's hand and then Lu's in farewell, his eyes and fingers lingering on him slightly longer than necessary. "If the party ends and you find yourselves in need of diversion, I'll be at my bar at Winchester and Lawrence. Castiel knows where it is." He grinned at them. "Ta."

The moment he was inside and out of earshot, Gabe almost died from laughter. "'Ta'? _Really_?" He had to grab Lu's shoulder to remain upright from the force of his giggles.

Lu half-smiled, not entirely sure where his head was. Again. He took a pull from his half-empty bottle to distract himself.

Taz made his way through the house, dodging through the living room, and was almost at the front door—his car was parked down the street at a neighbor's house, as were the rest of the vehicles, to avoid arousing Castiel's suspicion—when he chanced to glance to his left into the kitchen to see the birthday boy leaning back against the cupboards and staring. He couldn't quite read the younger man's expression, but he knew it wasn't a happy one.

"Castiel?" he asked softly, stepping into the kitchen.

He almost jumped out of his skin; he clearly hadn't heard Taz's approach. He straightened up. "Hey. What's up?"

"I was just about to take off, but what are you doing in here? The party, if I'm not mistaken, is outside."

Those ocean-blue eyes that had first drawn him to Castiel were clouded over with sadness. "I just…" He thought for a moment, covering it by taking a swig from his beer and draining the bottle. "I needed a minute alone."

Taz had a sudden desire to pull him into his arms and hold him tight, so that's exactly what he did. To both his surprise and Castiel's, he didn't pull away. Instead, he sank into the embrace. "I'm sorry, Cas," he murmured. "It's difficult to be lonely on your birthday."

Castiel nodded into his shoulder.

He pressed a quick kiss into the dark locks on the top of his head before pulling back. "If you get too lonely, you know where to find me." He reached into his pocket and dug out a pen and a business card, and he leaned over the counter and scribbled something quickly on the back. "If you need to get in touch," he added with a small smile.

Castiel flipped the card over. Ten digits—a phone number with the area code—were scrawled there. Taz's cell phone number. He looked up to thank him but he'd gone.

He heard the front door close.

* * *

_"Balthazar Lords is now friends with Lucifer Pellegrino and Gabriel Speight."_


	7. I Didn't See You Before

Mikey closed his eyes and, pushing his glasses up slightly, rubbed the bridge of his nose. Contrary to what Castiel thought, he'd called in today and hadn't gone to work. Instead, he'd been trying to orchestrate this whole ordeal—sending Gabe out to get the cake, making sure Ray had enough propane for the grill, just fucking _dealing_ with Lu—for Castiel's birthday even though neither of the Novak boys liked parties all that much. Mikey just figured that Castiel needed to see someone besides the same three or four people almost every night, and since his last birthday had been anything but exciting, he deserved something nice this year.

He excused himself from the small group that had gathered on the grass after wondering briefly why no one was sitting at one of the tables he and Ray and dragged out there and went to go inside. He wasn't necessarily _avoiding_ Lu but he definitely wasn't going out of his way to talk to the guy. He almost smacked right into Sam Smith in the doorway, heading out as he went in, but fortunately, Sam was paying slightly more attention than he was and caught him by the shoulders before Mikey plowed into his chest.

"Hey, sorry, man," Mikey said quickly.

"No big deal." Sam smiled and stepped aside to let Mikey through.

He took a quick look around and saw Bobby Singer talking to Rachel Wesson. Not wanting to bother them, he attempted to slip by quietly, but Bobby noticed him anyway.

"Hey, Michael, come sit down!"

He was about to politely decline when Rachel, whose back had been to him previously, turned and said, "Please?" with a sparkling smile.

He hadn't really gotten a good look at her all evening and he hadn't even seen her in ten years. The last time they'd seen each other, she'd been a brace-faced sophomore with her hair in braids and more volleyball trophies than any normal high-school-aged human could have earned. But now…

It felt like a kick in the chest and the air seemed to just disappear out of his lungs; for a moment, he forgot to breathe. She hadn't been difficult to look at ten years ago, but now, she was simply beautiful. "Uh, okay," he said softly, managing a small nod and sitting down on the couch next to her.

* * *

"Last call! Last call for burgers!" Ray yelled at the small mob about twenty feet away from him. The redhead, Anna Singer, glanced over and smiled before murmuring something to Dean Wesson and heading toward him.

Dean looked familiar to him, vaguely, but Anna was completely new. He figured that since she had been Castiel's friend, they'd been in the same year, which meant that he'd just graduated with Mikey when she and Castiel had been freshmen. He wouldn't have met her before this.

"Hey," he said easily, smiling. "Anna, right?"

"Yep! And you are…?"

"Ray. Ray Burbank. You're one of Cas's friends from high school, right?" He knew all this—he still wanted to ask her, though, in case she wanted to add something else.

"Yeah. Are you one of his college friends?"

He laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea. "No, no way. I can't cook to save my life—just barbecuing. Nah, I'm a friend of Mikey's. Y'know, Cas's brother?"

"Oh, so you graduated before we got there."

"Yeah, no big deal."

"Dean might know you, though," she added, and they both looked at her boyfriend.

He had to try not to dislike him—he was handsome with a knee-melting smile and shining eyes, but it wasn't Dean's fault he'd known her before Ray had. "High school sweethearts?" he guessed.

It was her turn to laugh now. "No, not even. We just started dating a few months ago. No, he was a jock in high school, one of the really popular kids, and I was kind of a drama nerd, so… I had a crush on him for awhile, though."

"And then you ended up dating him? Impressive."

"A little, yeah. It still blows my mind. He's a great guy."

 _He's a great guy._ The way she said it, though, was the only clue he needed. "Just a great guy?"

She gave him an indiscernible look. "Yeah. He's nice, he's cute, he's…" Her voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry," Ray said softly.

She looked down, then back at him. "Do you think I might be holding onto him just because… because my fourteen-year-old self wanted him?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Do you think the fact that you're asking this kind of indicates that you're having doubts? I mean, you're not engaged to him, right?"

"No, I'm not. Engaged, I mean. I mean, I'm happy with him and everything—he doesn't hit me or anything like that—but sometimes I think I could be happier with someone else."

"Have you tried the 'we should take a break' line?"

She scoffed. "Thought about it, but right now, it might give him the wrong impression. I mean, we basically just moved out here for the summer and we're planning on getting a place together. That would confuse him, don't you think?"

"Yeah, probably." He was silent for a few moments. Then he asked, "So, did you want a burger?"

Anna gave him a confused look for a moment, then remembered why she'd originally come over to him. "Oh, yeah. Just one is fine."

"How do you want it?"

"However you feel like making it is fine. I'm not picky."

"Bloody, got it."

When she grinned at him, he returned it easily.

* * *

"It's been awhile since we've seen each other," Rachel observed. "What have you been doing for the past ten years?"

Mikey shrugged nonchalantly. "I got a few degrees from Stamford, teaching, and now I'm a French history professor at Collins State. I have a few summer classes going on, but nothing too intensive. What about you?"

"Nothing quite that interesting. I'm a graphic designer—I went to the Art Institute of Chicago. Then I came back here about two years ago when I got a job at Red Line Design. It's not too exciting, but for a twenty-six-year-old, I'm making a fair bit of money."

"Wow, I had no idea you'd been back for so long."

She shrugged now. "But why would you?"

He laughed nervously. "I guess you're right."

Bobby, who had been watching this exchange with a casual interest, noted the lull that followed and said, "Hey, Michael, thanks for letting Anna and Dean crash here tonight. I don't have the room at my place."

"Yeah, no problem."

"And I'm kind of dog-sitting for a friend right now and Anna's allergic to them…" Rachel went on, shrugging apologetically and flashing Mikey that winning smile again. Both the Wesson twins, it appeared, had the ability to dissolve people into a puddle with just a smile.

"Really, it's no big deal," he finally managed to say. "Did… did either of you want something to drink? We're gonna be having cake in a few minutes," he added.

"I'm good," Rachel said.

"Actually, I'd like a Coke, if you've got it."

"Yeah, no problem." He shot another nervous smile at Rachel and quickly got up and went to the kitchen to get a can of Coke from the fridge.

He'd only taken two steps through the door before he noticed Castiel standing there, leaning against the counter and staring at something in his hand with an indiscernible expression. If he had to guess, he'd say Castiel looked upset and confused.

"Cas?"

As Castiel looked up, Mikey closed the door behind him and crossed the six feet separating them. "Cas, what's going on?"

"I… I don't know." Whatever was in his hand, he quickly shoved it into his back pocket.

"You don't know?"

"I just… Did you ever talk to Taz before this?"

"You mean Balthazar Lords? Jer—I mean, Crowley's cousin?"

"Yeah, him."

"Um, no, not really. Crowley kind of invited him last-minute, but I didn't think he… Oh, God, Cas, did he do something?"

Castiel's blue eyes went wide with something akin to horror. "Good God, no!" He shook his head quickly, sharply. "I just wanted to know if you knew him. That's all."

"Cas." Mikey put his hands gently on his younger brother's shoulders and carefully searched his face. "What's this about?"

"Am I that easy to read?"

"You're hiding in the kitchen from your own freaking birthday party, looking like your dog just died. I'd say you're not being incredibly subtle."

"It's just… I don't know, Anna was my friend in high school. My best friend, along with Sam. And then she shows up with Dean Wesson and…"

"Oh, Cas, I'm sorry. But if you didn't tell her, how could she know?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I just kind of thought, if I'm so easy to read, why didn't she ever figure it out? Why didn't _anyone_ ever figure it out?"

Mikey laughed softly. "I'm sorry, Cas. Hell, I wouldn't have figured it out, that's for damn sure. I mean, at the time, I was already pretty convinced you liked guys. If I had known this was going to dredge up bad feelings, I wouldn't have invited her. You just seemed so cool with her last year."

Castiel gave Mikey a puzzled look. "We _were_ cool last year. Before she started dating Dean Wesson."

Mikey's eyes widened. "Oh, shit, Cas, I'm sorry!" he laughed, doubling over and looking simultaneously amused, embarrassed, and horrified. "I thought you were talking about having a crush on Anna! I didn't know you meant… I'm sorry."

"This isn't funny, Michael."

Mikey straightened up. Castiel only used his full name when he was really annoyed or being serious. "Look, I'm sorry. Well, if I had known how you felt about Anna's boyfriend, I wouldn't have invited them."

Castiel shook his head. "It's not your fault. I'm just frustrated. I _am_ glad to see her, but I just wish she'd known how I felt about him. Not that…" His eyes went to the floor as he continued. "Not that I want them to break up or anything. If they're happy together, that's fine. It's something I didn't expect, though. Like little Sammy suddenly being six inches taller than me or something. I don't know."

Mikey sighed and nodded. "I know. I wish I hadn't told them they could stay here. One night at a hotel wouldn't kill them, right?"

Castiel shrugged. "I'll try to cheer up."

Those five words cut deeper into Mikey's heart than they should have. It was Castiel's birthday, but he was the one who was forcing a happy face, and not even for his own sake—it was for the rest of them. Mikey knew he couldn't control it, but he still felt partly responsible. He pulled his brother into a tight hug. "I'm really sorry, Cas." After a few moments, he returned the hug. "Okay, little bro, let's have some cake and we can get this mess over with. How does that sound?"

"Sounds alright to me," Castiel said.

"Hey, where did Balthazar go, anyway?"

"He took off. But he did say good-bye to me, and he gave me his number."

"Good. Hopefully he'll take your mind off Dean, huh?"

Castiel managed to blink back a few tears as he gave his brother a genuine smile. "I hope so."

* * *

_"Raphael Burbank and Anna Singer are now friends; Michael Novak and Rachel Wesson are now friends."_


	8. 151 with a Vodka Chaser

With a small sigh of both exhaustion and relief, Castiel hung up his apron and headed through the swinging stainless steel doors leading out of the kitchen. He fished his phone out of his pocket and, for what seemed like the thousandth time in over five weeks, dialed the number he now had memorized. His thumb paused, as it always did, over the SEND button.

 _This is stupid_ , he thought. _It's been more than a month. If I call him now…_ Castiel frowned at the screen and put his phone to sleep. Taz wouldn't want to talk to him now. His chance had passed after the first week. Once again, his own hesitation and indecision had fucked him over.

"Novak!"

 _Should have gone out the back way_ , he thought. Crowley was about the last person he wanted to see right now. Still, he turned in his boss's direction. "Yeah?"

Crowley crossed the relatively short distance between them in three quick strides. "Everything okay, Novak?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Castiel said, knowing his expression and the circles under his eyes indicated the opposite. He didn't know why Crowley was asking, but he _knew_ he didn't want to have this conversation with him, especially when stressing about the man's cousin was a fairly big part of the problem.

Crowley eyeballed him for a moment and then scoffed. He clearly could see through Castiel's lie. "Yeah, well, Taz has been asking about you, if you're alright. If I were you, I'd call him and reassure him, yeah?"

Castiel felt a surprising surge of relief. Taz had probably asked Crowley to talk to him, which meant he wasn't upset at him. "Yeah, I'll call him. Thanks."

Crowley nodded and went back to his office, obviously thinking, _My work here is done._

Castiel turned and went right for the door, dialing Taz's number again and hitting the SEND button as he slid into the driver's seat of his truck.

 _"Please enjoy the music while your party is reached."_ A moment later, the speaker was blaring Adam Lambert, and Castiel had to choke back a snort of laughter. _Really?_

The song was cut off a few seconds later by Taz's clipped British accent. "Taz Lords."

"Hey, Taz," Castiel said, suddenly feeling faint and hoping he just imagined the tremor in his voice. "It's, uh, it's Cas Novak."

Taz's voice softened considerably. "Oh, hey, Cas!" He laughed. "I thought you lost my number or something."

"No, but I'm sorry. I meant to call you, but…" He realized he was about to say _You have no idea that I tried to call you every damn day_ but then realized how desperate and pathetic it sounded. "But it just kind of got away from me, you know? Anyway, I'm really sorry."

"No need to apologize. Is everything okay, Cas?"

He sighed. "Things have been better. But, um, it's not something I really want to talk about over the phone."

"No problem. Are you at home?"

"No, just leaving work."

"You should come over to the bar. There's only a few people here, so I can give you my undivided attention. Plus alcohol helps everything," Taz added with a laugh.

His hesitation and indecision had fucked him over plenty of times in the past. This time, he only hesitated for a moment. "Sure. I'll be right there."

* * *

The moment Castiel walked through the door of the Lord & Lady, he was assaulted by an old-school jukebox blasting loud, gritty punk music by a British band he didn't recognize. It was shortly after eight, and Taz was right: there was only about a half a dozen people scattered throughout the bar. Speaking of whom…

He was standing behind the bar, pulling a bottle and two shot glasses from below the counter and lining up two shots. He glanced up briefly as Castiel walked in, and he smiled. The younger man grinned back and took the seat right in front of Taz.

"I see you found the place okay," Taz quipped, setting the bottle back behind the bar and nudging one of the shot glasses toward him. He picked up the other one.

Castiel clinked his glass against Taz's and they knocked back their shots.

It burned going down and he almost gagged, but he got it down. "Holy shit!" he gasped, eyes watering. "What the Hell was _that_? It tasted like floor cleaner!" Burned like it, too.

Taz grinned. "151. Strong stuff."

"Oh, my God, that's not something to spring on someone without warning." Still, he couldn't help laughing at Taz's comical expression.

"Want another?"

"You've _got_ to be joking."

Taz's grin widened. "Of course. How about something else? Stoli?"

Castiel nodded, and Taz poured them each a shot of vodka. After the 151, the Stoli went down like water. Finally, he sighed and shook his head as Taz tilted the bottle toward him again, silently asking, _Want another?_ "Not yet," he said. His brain was starting to fog pleasantly, and he wanted to keep this small buzz going for a few minutes before he started giggling or something stupid.

"Alright, then, love. What seems to be the problem?"

Castiel sighed. "Well, you remember the party Mikey threw for me, right?"

"Mikey. Your brother right? About this tall—" Taz held up his hand at about six feet, Mikey's approximate height "—with glasses?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, the redhead, Anna—she was one of my best friends in high school and I hadn't seen her in about a year. Hadn't even _heard_ from her. Then she shows up and tells me that she's dating the guy I had a major crush on in high school."

"'Had'?" Taz asked, raising his eyebrow. "Doesn't sound like past tense if it's that big of a deal." He splashed another shot of Stoli in each of their glasses.

"Well," Castiel started after they knocked back their shots, "it _was_ past tense. I hadn't seen Dean in eight years, and so I guess it faded. But seeing him again…" His voice trailed off.

"And on the arm of your once-best friend, reawakened old feelings?" Taz guessed.

He nodded. "Basically. And, yeah, they've only been dating for a few months, and… I don't know."

"Well, she doesn't sound like a very good friend if she didn't even warn you that she was dating the man you used to have a crush on."

Castiel sighed and pointed to his shot glass. Taking the hint, Taz poured another. As Castiel swallowed it, he barely noticed that Taz hadn't poured one for himself. "Well, I would agree with you, but that's my own fucking fault." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. "I never told her."

"Why not? I thought every teenage boy told his best friend who he likes."

"Not at the time. I wasn't comfortable with myself then. I felt like a loser. I didn't want to lose Anna or Sam as friends just because I liked guys. Of course, if I had known then what I know now, that they really wouldn't have cared, I would have told them. But I didn't know and by the time I realized it, I hadn't seen Dean in four years and I didn't want to bring up old high school crushes. I was stupid."

Taz shook his head. "You're not stupid at all, love." He turned his head towards a pretty, older blonde crossing behind him with a case of beer in her arms. "Mary, tell Cas here he's not stupid."

"You're not stupid, Cas," Mary said, turning her head and smiling. She set down the box and looked from Castiel to Taz and back. "What's wrong?"

"Just working through a mini-meltdown, love. Mary, this is Castiel Novak, a good friend of mine. Cas, this is Mary Campbell, my lovely co-owner."

"Nice to meet you, Cas," Mary said, reaching over the bar to shake Castiel's hand.

Castiel's heart, which had shuddered to a shocked halt for the briefest of moments upon seeing the wedding ring on her finger, resumed its normal pace at Taz's introduction. For a wild moment, he'd thought Taz and Mary were married, although he didn't actually recall seeing him wearing a wedding ring. Castiel shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, too."

"Well, I'm going to get this stocked. Call me if you need anything, Taz," Mary said, picking the case of beer back up and heading further down the bar.

"Need another?" Taz asked, pointing to the bottle.

Castiel nodded and made absolutely sure that, yes, Taz was not wearing a wedding ring. After downing his next shot, he asked, "What were we talking about?"

"You were saying something along the lines of you were being stupid for not telling Anna you had a crush on Dean, and I was raising my objections to such a statement."

Castiel snorted with laughter. "You sounded like Lu for a second. Lawyer words." He thought he saw something flicker behind Taz's eyes at the mention of Lu's name, but he must have imagined it because the next moment, it was gone.

"Have you seen Anna or Dean since the party?"

"The next morning. They crashed at our house 'cause they decided to move out here for the summer except I think they're gonna be hanging around because he got a job at the car repair place about a mile away from my house and she's working at a radio station now. It really fucking blows, knowing they're around and that I could run into them at any time."

"I'm sorry, love. If I could make it all go away, I would." He poured them both one last shot and they clinked their glasses together again.

Castiel downed it in one quick gulp and slammed the empty glass onto the bar in front of him. For a few moments, he tried to count the number of shots he'd taken—was it a shot of 151 and four shots of Stoli, or a shot of 151 and _five_ shots of Stoli?—and realized that it was hitting him all at once. At least, that had to be the explanation behind the way he suddenly reached up, grabbed Taz by the collar, and pulled him into a dirty, drunken kiss.

It certainly had nothing to do with the soft, caring look in Taz's bright blue eyes. At least, that's what he told himself.

Taz tasted like Stoli, which was unsurprising, but this close, Castiel could now smell something faintly salty but extremely delicious on his skin. His heart picked up its tempo and he felt his free hand sliding into Taz's thick, dirty-blond hair and Taz's hand was coming up to stroke his cheek and—

"Cas," Taz murmured, pushing him away just slightly but still cupping his face, "I know you're drunk right now. I'm not going to take advantage of you. Call me tomorrow, okay? If you're sober and you still want to kiss me, let me know. Okay?"

Castiel nodded. "Sorry," he mumbled, blushing with embarrassment.

"Don't be." He gave him a quick kiss and rubbed his thumbs over Castiel's cheeks. "It's okay. I'll drive you home, okay? I don't want you driving in your state."

"How're you gonna get back?"

"I'll call a cab. No big deal, love." He straightened up and called over to his co-owner, "Oi, Mary! I'm gonna take Cas home. Hold down the fort while I'm gone, eh?"

"Sure thing!" Mary waved at them and went back to dropping a shot of Jägermeister into someone's glass of Red Bull.

Taz slid his black jacket over his shoulders, slid over the bar, and helped Castiel off his stool. The alcohol hit him even harder now that he was standing, and he almost tripped several times on the way out the door.

He was suddenly thankful he had Taz to hang on to.

* * *

_"Hey, Anna, it's Ray. Give me a call when you get a chance. I'd like to hang out with you sometime. Maybe see a movie or something? Just as friends, though. Uh, yeah. Can't wait to hear from you. Um, bye."_

Anna chewed a fingernail thoughtfully. Finally, she tapped Ray's name in her phone's contact list and the phone started ringing. It went to voicemail, something for which she was grateful. Peering into the garage to triple-check that Dean's Impala was not there, she waited for the beep and said, "Ray, it's Anna." She bit her lip. "What movie?"

* * *

_"Jeremy Crowley wrote on Castiel Novak's Wall: 'Call Taz, dammit!'"_


	9. Red and Black

Anna hovered in the doorway, looking anxiously at Dean. _Stop it_ , she told herself. _It's not a date. I'm just seeing a movie with a male friend. A very sweet, very attractive, possibly into-me male friend._

"Are you going to be okay here by yourself?" she asked Dean, who was staring at the television. She wasn't convinced he was actually watching it.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Maybe you should invite over Sam or someone from the shop."

"I'm fine. Really." He turned in the chair and flashed a huge, almost fake, smile. "Go have fun. I'll be here when you get back."

"Okay, well…" She glanced at her watch and decided he'd absolved her of guilt. "I'll be back in a few hours. Have a nice night."

Once Dean waved in acknowledgement, she ducked out of the doorway and closed it quickly behind her. Her keys rattled in the lock and a few moments later, he heard her car start up and pull away. The moment her Focus's engine faded into nothing, he let out a sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding in.

He turned off the television and went straight to the liquor cabinet for a bottle of Jack Daniels and a shot glass. He downed two shots as quickly as he could and then sat back down in his previously vacated armchair and poured another shot.

 _It's not Anna_ , he thought, knocking back his third shot. Personally, he was glad that she was able to leave. She didn't deserve to be dragged down by him. He didn't deserve her, either—she was too good. But being with her was simple and uncomplicated. It was easy, and he inexplicably seemed to make her happy.

He'd thought he could handle this. They'd only been together for four months, but it felt like four decades. He wished he could be the man Anna deserved and, at one time, he thought he could be. But then she suggested they come home for Castiel Novak's birthday party and he foolishly agreed, thinking he was over…

He couldn't even think the name right now. He poured himself another shot and tilted it down his throat.

Dean thought he was over his feelings, but he couldn't let them go. He was stuck in this stupid high school rut, absolutely crazy about the same guy as eight years ago. He thought he'd moved on, but if the way the bottom dropped out of his stomach the moment he saw him again was any indication, he was the farthest thing from "over him." It was a wonder he'd been able to form a coherent sentence or pull himself together long enough to shake his hand, as if he hadn't fantasized about him for his last two years of high school and the first two years or so of college.

A fifth shot. His thoughts were starting to run together.

"Fuckin' Cas Novak," he spat, well-aware he was alone in the house and not caring. How the _fuck_ was Castiel still able to affect him like this almost a decade later? Dean didn't like to admit his weakness for men with blue eyes and dark hair and shy smiles, and every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Castiel's face.

But when Dean had greeted him, Castiel either didn't remember him or didn't like him because it was pretty obvious that he didn't want to talk to Dean. All his replies were curt, to say the least, and he was clearly uncomfortable with him, so Dean excused himself and headed right for the booze, feeling like the world's biggest moron.

And why the Hell would Castiel be into him, anyway? The guys he was into—or _seemed_ to be into, he had to remind himself; he didn't know for sure that Castiel even liked men, although it seemed pretty likely that he did—were confident guys like that Taz Lords guy or Sam Smith—although he was still partly in shock over how much Sam had grown. Dean had barely said two words to anyone else the rest of the night and he'd forced himself not to look at Castiel, even when he knew he was in the vicinity. The only time that became a problem was when Mikey carried out a birthday cake with twenty-four candles on it and set it in front of Castiel and made them all sing "Happy Birthday to You." But he was thankfully distracted by one of his old classmates, Gabe Speight, making obscene gestures toward the cake.

Dean seemed to recall with a chuckle some class he had with Gabe—trigonometry, he thought—when the short kid had spent all of class either sleeping or buzzing through candy bars. The guy still had his sweet tooth, apparently.

Staying here was a mistake, but Anna had a job now and so did he. He was stuck for the time being, and he had the constant reminder of Castiel hanging over him. What was he supposed to do? How had he even gotten to this point?

Unbidden but insuppressible, the memory bubbled up. He closed his eyes and tried to shut it out, but it forced itself through.

_The first day of my junior year. It's gonna be a good year._

_I get out of Rachel's car and we haul our backpacks over our shoulders. She locks the doors and I wait for her, so we can enter the building together. Everyone knows the Wesson twins, of course. People high-five one or both of us as we walk in, calling out greetings and waving. The ones who don't, the little ones, they're freshmen. They don't know._

_There are a lot of freshmen in our hallway. I try to ignore them as Rachel and I locate our lockers and spin the combinations. I stuff my lunch bag onto the upper shelf and, since I don't have anything in my backpack except pens and notebooks, slam the locker shut. Rachel has three binders that she drops into her locker and I turn to scan the hallway._

_Behind me. In front of me now. Blue eyes. Dark hair. Glasses. Soft-looking lips. He's so sweet-looking that it takes me a moment to realize he looks familiar. But_ how _? If I'd seen him before, I would have remembered him._

_He turns, spins the combination of his locker, and his fingers are long and elegant. I'm hypnotized._

_"That's Michael Novak's backpack," Rachel hisses suddenly, almost accusingly. She's had it bad for Novak since she first saw him in our freshman year, but he was a junior. Leave it to her to pick out some obscure detail._

_"So… he has a brother?" I ask._

_"Yeah. I think his name is Castiel."_

__Castiel Novak. _Maybe I could have forgotten about him in a few weeks if, later at lunch, I hadn't witnessed little Sam Smith getting his tray knocked out of his hands by one of the senior jocks. Not all jocks are bad—I'm one, after all, and Rachel could be considered a jock as well—but this one, this James Tyson, he's all kinds of nasty._

_I start to stand up, but Castiel Novak appears out of nowhere and calmly places himself between Sam and Tyson. He helps Sam pick up what food can be salvaged and doesn't say a word to Tyson even though he's jeering at them and shoving Castiel. He just ignores him, until someone flags down a teacher and Tyson is removed from the cafeteria. But the damage is done, and Castiel Novak, who has risked minor personal injury and school-wide mocking on his first day of high school…_

_Well, I've lost my heart to him. And every day since then, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. That year, his locker is directly across from mine. I have to struggle not to look for him every time I stop at mine; I have to force myself to not stare at him when I know he's there._

_He's beautiful, absolutely flawless, and he's even more irritating for it because he doesn't seem to realize how wonderful he is. How am I supposed to just forget him? Ten years later, he still holds the same sway over me, only now that he somehow knows me, he couldn't care less._

_Anna is too good for me. If she only knew, she would hate me._

Dean poured himself a double shot next, but instead of downing it, he sipped it and stared into it.

And then there was the morning after the party, the morning after he and Anna had spent the night on the Novaks' pull-out couch. They'd stripped the sheets and folded the couch back up right around the time Mikey came down the stairs and cheerfully started making breakfast.

Once the eggs and bacon were done, Mikey called up the stairs for Castiel. "Hey! Cas! Breakfast time!"

"Not hungry!" Castiel had yelled back.

The way Mikey furrowed his brow, Dean could tell that it wasn't his usual behavior. "You sure?" Mikey asked.

"I'm _fine_ ," Castiel answered, and the irritation in his voice was evident.

And from then on, there was no doubt in Dean's mind that his latter guess the night before was correct: Castiel remembered him, but he did not like him.

He hadn't let himself ponder it too much, but now there was nothing else to do. _Why?_ Why in God's name did Castiel seem to hate him? He hadn't done anything to him.

And then the answer floated up to him. _Anna._

The rest of the questions tumbled over him in a rush. What if Castiel was actually straight? What if he liked Anna and resented Dean for dating her? What if he blamed Dean for keeping Anna away from home for so long?

He threw back the rest of his shot and set the glass on the side table next to him. Then he fell forward, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. _Oh, God. If he's straight…_ The thought simultaneously made him feel better and worse, and for the same reason: If Castiel was straight, Dean never had a chance with him to begin with.

He didn't know how long he sat there after that, but after what must have been ten minutes of dead air in his head, he came to the conclusion that the whiskey had hit him pretty hard. He wanted to call Castiel and demand to know why he hated him, if it was Anna or something else, and he wanted to spill his guts—confess everything. His obsession with the dark-haired angel was something he hadn't told anyone, not even Rachel, and it was starting to eat him alive.

The only thing that stopped him from drunk-dialing Castiel was the fact that Dean didn't have his number.

* * *

_"Anna Singer went from being in a relationship to 'It's complicated.'"_


	10. Feeling Better

Castiel stayed in his room the whole day after—he assumed—Taz brought him home. Frankly, he couldn't really remember what happened after Taz had said, "I could make it all go away, I would." _That_ , he remembered very clearly. He had an inkling—as he fought down a wave of shame—that he'd kissed Taz because that was the sort of thing intoxicated Castiel did. Intoxicated Castiel made out with random guys who showed him even the smallest trace of sympathy after he spilled his guts and revealed himself to be an easy, emotionally vulnerable target.

He partly just wanted to sleep for the next three days—that was the next time he worked, when he would have some distraction from his own thoughts—but the other side was that he did not want to see Mikey. He didn't know what Mikey knew about what had happened the night before, what Taz had said when they walked in, what _he'd_ said, what Mikey had said. He also didn't know how much Mikey had deduced about his younger brother, although some comments he made indicated he probably realized more than he said. He just didn't want to face any of that right now, and he felt entitled to that.

Correction: He didn't want to face _anyone_ , and the way he ignored every call and text message attested to that.

Hiding was his personal defense mechanism, something he employed quite well the morning after the party. He knew Anna probably wanted to say goodbye to him before she and Dean left, but he couldn't face Dean and he reasoned that he and Anna would probably see each other again within a week or two. Even after Mikey called up the stairs for breakfast—and then again before Anna and Dean left, during which time Castiel feigned sleep—he declined, preferring to stay in his room where he still had full control over everything that happened.

So he was here, hiding again, from Mikey, from Taz, from life.

The next morning, however, he was obligated to leave his room for food—his stomach was growling warningly and he was feeling a bit faint. So he quietly slunk down the stairs and prayed Mikey wasn't around.

He was, though. Sitting at the kitchen table, pen in one hand and the other on the newspaper on the table. He was doing the crossword puzzle.

For a twenty-seven-year-old, he sure acted a lot like a senior citizen.

Mikey looked up, the blue eyes that were nearly identical to Castiel's wide behind his glasses. "Never heard of a hangover that lasted a whole day," he said casually.

Actually, he had only been hung over for a few hours yesterday morning. After about sixteen glasses of water and four Advil, his headache went right away. Mikey didn't need to know that, though. Castiel just grunted in response and shuffled toward the toaster. "So what happened after I came home?"

"Not much. Taz just told me you had a little too much and he didn't want you driving. I got you into bed and he called a cab. He left his car here, but I guess he knew what he was doing because yesterday, he came by with yours and drove off with his." Mikey's phone buzzed on the table next to the newspaper, and he quickly answered the text message there.

With Mikey's words, Castiel's stomach dropped along with the bread into the toaster. "You have my keys?"

"Yeah, right there on the counter." Mikey twisted in his seat and pointed toward the side door.

"Did he say anything else?"

"Yesterday? Not really. He came by around noon. Dropped off your keys, asked if you were awake or even alive, mentioned something about a few shots of 151. I told him I was pretty sure you were alive."

Unconsciously, Castiel rubbed his right eye underneath his own glasses. He hadn't felt like wearing contacts for the past day and a half. "It was only one shot of 151. The others were Stoli," he muttered.

All the schooling and the last semester of teaching had given Mikey a creepily piercing stare that was only magnified through his black frames. This was the gaze he now fixed on Castiel. "You don't drink that much."

"I did last night. Or, well, the night before last."

"Why?"

"I just… wasn't feeling that great, okay? I went to him to talk and since he was at work, there happened to be alcohol available, and…" His voice trailed off.

"Just talk?" Mikey arched an eyebrow and the action forcibly reminded Castiel of their father. He _definitely_ guessed his brother was into guys.

Mikey's phone buzzed again.

"Yes, just talk." He wasn't about to tell Mikey he'd made out with Taz.

"Well, after you eat—" As if on cue, Castiel's toast popped out of the toaster "—you should give Taz a call or something and thank him for bringing you home. It was nice of him. Especially the part about dropping off your truck, too."

Castiel mumbled something along the lines of "I'm not six fucking years old, so don't tell me to thank someone," but he knew he owed Taz a call at least anyway. An explanation actually, if his feeling about making out with him was correct.

He buttered his toast and they lapsed into a tense silence—tense for Castiel, anyway. Mikey had gone back to the crossword puzzle. Finally, Castiel got up and put his plate in the dishwasher, feeling Mikey's eyes boring into his back as he slunk back up the stairs.

* * *

Taz Lords wasn't surprised when he came by the next day to discover that Castiel hadn't made an appearance. Castiel had been quite thoroughly liquored up and Taz had no idea what his alcohol tolerance was like. He knew his was significantly higher—being a bartender and then a bar owner for nearly ten years will do that—but by the time he got Castiel home, he was starting to feel on the wrong end of fucked up. So he left his car and called a cab, which ended up being a blessing, because when he drove Castiel's truck back to his house, his own car was there waiting.

When Mikey told him that Castiel was still in his room—breathing, most likely—Taz sent him a strong mental command, telling Mikey to have Castiel call him as soon as he got a chance. He hoped he got the message.

Part of him was genuinely worried about Castiel—he liked to think it was the majority of him—and wanted to be sure he was okay, but a smaller, nagging part of him hoped that he didn't regret kissing him. It was never an ego-booster to be someone's drunken mistake.

The whole day passed without a word from Castiel, and the only reason he didn't go out of his head with concern was Lu's texts. He had to admit that talking to Lu calmed him down. He wasn't quite sure why, though.

When he woke up shortly after noon the next morning, though, he was relieved to see that Castiel had sent him a text message about an hour before. _Hey, thanks for bringing back my truck yesterday._

Smiling, he tapped out his reply: _Not a problem. Are you feeling better?_

He was out of bed and nearly dressed—just slipped a belt through the loops of his jeans—when Castiel's response came in. _Yeah. I'm sorry about what happened, though. I can get a bit out of hand when I'm intoxicated._

Taz frowned at the phone. It seemed an awful lot like Castiel was blaming himself. _It wasn't your fault. You needed to get your mind off the bullshit for awhile. But if I may make a suggestion, a little honesty on your part may be beneficial._ He hoped that didn't sound too harsh, but he was still stung from Castiel's rejection.

 _Did I kiss you?_ The question surprised him—did Castiel not remember that?

 _Yes. Do you regret it?_ He had to know. He pulled a shirt over his head and paced around the room, glaring at his phone until it buzzed again.

_Will you hate me if I say no?_

Relief washed over him in an awesome wave. _I wouldn't hate you if you said no, but I wouldn't hate you if you said yes, either._

_Well, no, I don't regret it._

A grin split across Taz's face. _Good. If you're feeling up to it, I'd like to take you out to breakfast._ He glanced at his clock. _Or lunch. Whatever._

The answer came back more quickly than most of the others. _Sure :) Just let me shower. I should be ready to go in about thirty minutes._

He involuntarily looked at his clock again. _Not a problem at all. See you in thirty :)_

* * *

Twenty-seven minutes later, Castiel bounded back down the stairs, now fully showered, shaved, dressed, and without glasses. Mikey finished the word he was filling in and looked up.

"Well then. Where are you off to?"

"Lunch with Taz," Castiel said, hovering by the door.

"So you talked to him?"

"Yes, and everything's fine, thank you."

Mikey pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, that's certainly a relief. You meeting him there or is he picking you up?"

"He's picking me up."

"Well, it's a good thing you're with the boss's cousin—if you show up late on Tuesday, you'll have a good excuse."

Castiel glared. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Mikey shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing, just that if you don't plan on coming back home tonight, that's perfectly alright."

"I'm not going to sleep with him."

"Then I'm disappointed."

_"Why?"_

"Because you need to get laid."

Castiel was about to issue a scathing retort, but the doorbell suddenly rang, distracting him. He pulled open the door and almost shoved Taz backwards to get them both out of the house and down the walkway to Taz's car.

Mikey chuckled and opened a new text message. _Hey, wanna come over? I'm making lunch and my little brother just left for a few hours._

_Sure, I'll be right over! :)_

Mikey turned off the screen and went back to his crossword puzzle, smiling as he waited for the imminent arrival of Rachel Wesson.

* * *

"So I'm still a little vague on what happened the other night," Castiel said as soon as he and Taz slid into a side booth at Applebee's.

"Iced tea for me, please," Taz said to the waitress before looking back at Castiel.

"Oh. Um, coffee, black," he added.

Once the waitress walked away, he gave Taz another probing look, and Taz sighed. "Vague how? What did Michael tell you?"

"Just the very basic facts. You brought me home, called a cab, and left. That's it."

Taz shrugged. "I don't know what else to tell you, love. That's pretty much all there was."

"But what did he say when you brought me inside?"

"I don't remember all that well. I was fairly tipsy myself at that point. I probably told him you had a bit too much to drink and that was it, so he probably made some appropriate big brother noises of concern."

"You didn't tell him why I was drinking, right?"

"Of course not. I never betray the confidences of the bar." This, Taz said with one hand over his heart and the other raised, and a smug smirk on his face.

Castiel rolled his eyes, but Taz noticed the faint smile tugging at his lips.

At this point, their waitress returned with Castiel's coffee and Taz's iced tea. "Do you want to start off with some appetizers or go right to lunch?"

"Um…" Castiel hadn't even looked at the menu yet, but apparently Taz had, because he said, "Mozzarella sticks, please."

"Okay, anything else?" When Castiel shook his head, she added cheerily, "Okay, then, I'll go put in your order. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Castiel buried his face in his menu as a thought he hadn't considered floated through his head. _Is this a date?_

He finally worked up the courage to ask right after their waitress set down the basket of mozzarella sticks and told them she'd check in on them in a few more minutes. "Taz, is this a date?"

He looked up at Castiel and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then he said, "That's up to you. If you want this to be a date, then it will be. That being said, if you _don't_ want this to be a date, I will abide by your decision."

Castiel nodded slowly, mulling it over. Taz definitely liked him, then. No one had liked him in awhile, least of all someone who was nice and at least had the moral fortitude to not take advantage of him while he was drunk. _That_ was certainly an improvement over some of the guys he used to date. Plus, he wanted to get over Dean already. Still, something held him back. "I don't have to decide right now, do I?"

Taz laughed. "Not at all."

The next two hours passed in a remarkably easy blur. Taz was nothing if not charming and likeable, and because Castiel hadn't decided if they were on a date yet, he didn't insist on picking up the whole check, something Castiel appreciated. But Taz did suggest they see a movie afterward and he readily agreed, and he soon found himself sitting in the back row of a nearly empty theater, eating popcorn and watching this movie about the teenage girl in love with a vampire or a shape shifter—he couldn't really tell which—and laughing at all of Taz's snarky comments. Taz had apparently read the book that went with it and hated everything to do with it, but he enjoyed heckling the screen and providing his own running commentary.

Fortunately, the two or three other pairs of people in the theater didn't seem to mind—they were all preoccupied with each other, probably because the movie had been in theaters for ages and anyone who cared had already seen it.

It was nearly seven by the time Taz pulled up in front of Castiel's house. Since they'd dropped the subject at the restaurant, they hadn't discussed whether or not it was an official date, and now Castiel felt the question coming; he could tell it was right at the tip of Taz's tongue, so he made his decision in a split second and opted not to let him ask the question.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to Taz's. This time, neither of them was drunk and it made all the difference. Just like the first time, across from each other in the bar, Taz was taken by surprise, but instead of pushing him away, he slid his arms around Castiel's body and pulled him as close as he could, considering they were both still buckled into their seats.

His heartbeat quickened in his ears and as his lips moved against Taz's, one hand reached beside him and unbuckled his seatbelt and the other went to Taz's dirty-blond hair. Released now, he nearly fell into Taz's lap, and the older man languidly licked across his lips. Castiel obligingly parted them and they both groaned as their tongues met.

Pulse racing now, he bit lightly on Taz's tongue, and Taz groaned again, fisting Castiel's dark hair. Castiel stroked the back of his neck and moaned into his mouth as Taz's tongue swept further into his mouth. That simple act was enough to make Castiel relieved he wasn't drunk, because if he was, he probably would have forced Taz into the backseat and demand to be fucked.

 _Oh, God._ He hadn't been touched in so long. Even through their clothes, Taz's touch was starting a fire that would consume them if it went on much longer. His body screamed at him to let it, get them into the backseat or have Taz drive them to his place and fuck him, _something_ —but his head said it was too fast and this time, his brain won out.

He pulled back a bit, both of them panting to catch their breath, and even in the low light, Castiel could see that the pupils of Taz's light blue eyes were dilated wide, leaving only a narrow ring of blue. He breathed, "So I guess you can safely say this was a date."

Taz nodded, smiling, and brushed his lips against Castiel's for a brief moment, then let him slide across the seat and out of his car. He waited to drive off until he was sure Castiel was inside, partly because it was the gentlemanly thing to do and partly because his whole body was trembling.

His phone vibrated in the cup holder. _New message from Lu Pellegrino._

He dropped the phone on the seat next to him without reading it. He would check it when he got home. For the moment, it didn't seem important.

* * *

_"Castiel Novak went from being single to 'It's complicated.'"_


	11. Pushing Buttons

Taz didn't respond to his text message until the next morning, which wasn't a surprise to Lu considering the odd hours he kept, and he reasoned to himself that he'd probably been working late and was too tired to answer. When his phone trilled annoyingly, signaling a new text message, and he saw it was from Taz, he smiled and set down his coffee cup to check it.

_Sorry, love. Had a long day yesterday. Went on a date with your friend Cas._

Lu just barely resisted the almost overwhelming urge to throw his phone across the room. "Mother fucker!" An actual _date_? With Castiel "Haven't had sex in three years" Novak? "Fuck!"

For the last month and a half, he'd been working his way up to asking Taz out, but something had held him back. Somehow, Castiel had managed to do it, though.

His initial rage subsided. He hadn't acted. This was his fault. He had no one to blame for this mess but himself. And Castiel was his friend. Shouldn't he at least be happy that he was dating again?

He tried to keep his virtual tone light. _Awesome! How was it?_

The moment the message sent, he sent another text message to Gabe. _Dude, Cas went on a date with Taz yesterday._

His work phone beeped and his secretary Lilith (he never tried to contemplate the irony that a man named Lucifer had a secretary named Lilith) informed him that Mr. Frank Fisher was on the line before the replies came in. Unfortunately, this particular client had had the bad luck to look like someone who'd stolen about $10,000 worth of equipment from a computer store. This one was going to have to go to court, but it would be a fairly simple matter of pointing out "wrong place, wrong time." Still, they took almost an hour to set up an appointment for Wednesday because his client had a ton of questions to ask beforehand.

Finally, he hung up and checked his messages.

Taz's message said _I think it went well. I'm going to call him later and set up another date._

He had to force himself to be cheerful. _Good, congrats man._

Gabe's message was on the annoyed side of snarky. _Fuckin' good for them. Why the fuck did you feel the need to wake me up on my first day off in four days?_

 _Well, fuck, I thought you'd be interested._ Clearly, he was going to be keeping this one to himself.

_Text me back in about six hours and I might be interested._

Well _that_ was promising. He sighed and lightly tossed his phone onto the desk, then hit the page button on his work phone.

_"Yes, Lu?"_

"Fisher made an appointment on Wednesday at nine. Can you schedule it?"

_"Not a problem. For how long?"_

"Make it an hour, just in case."

_"Consider it done."_

"Thanks, Lil."

He flipped through a few more files but saw nothing extremely pressing. Finally, he gave up on getting any real work done today and hit PLAY on the remote. A moment later, the TV on the wall opposite his desk turned on and the DVD started. He settled back in his seat and started re-watching _American Psycho_ for nearly the thousandth time.

* * *

When Gabe slept, he was like a rock, so it didn't surprise Lu when he didn't answer the knocking at his door. He jiggled the handle and noted with a small amount of satisfaction that Gabe was finally learning to lock his damn door—he'd had a tendency to leave it unlocked, and while the neighborhood was far from terrible, it was better to be safe than sorry.

The doorbell didn't work, though, so Lu finally gave up on waiting for Gabe to answer the door himself and pulled out the spare key he had and let himself in.

The house was quiet inside and all the curtains were closed, so he knew Gabe was still asleep. He rifled through his DVD collection and finally picked out _Pulp Fiction_. He knew he could be waiting for hours for Gabe to wake up. He unbuttoned his dress shirt all the way down to expose the plain blue T-shirt underneath and rolled up his sleeves, then settled onto the couch to wait.

Fortunately, Gabe stumbled through the door, a bottle of Mountain Dew and a package of Starbursts in hand, right around the time Mia Wallace overdosed. He blinked at Lu, bleary-eyed and confused for a moment, before opening the bottle and sitting on the couch next to him, his usual comical grin on his face. "How long was I out?"

Lu checked his watch. "Well, I got your last text message about eight hours ago, so I'm assuming right around eight hours."

Gabe yawned and cracked his back. "Shit. Fuck, man, how long have you been here?"

"Just since the beginning of _Pulp Fiction_."

He grunted in approval and kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of them. "What else did I miss?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of."

Gabe unwrapped a red Starburst and popped it in his mouth, then waved the package at Lu. "Want one?"

Lu gave him a funny look but took the next one, an orange one.

They continued watching the movie in silence. Lu suddenly became hyper-aware that Gabe was only wearing his boxers. It wasn't like they hadn't been around each other in their underwear (and less) before—they'd been friends for twenty-one years, and you don't go that long being friends with Gabriel Richard Speight without playing a few hands of strip poker—but it felt different this time, and he couldn't figure out why. He anxiously ran his hand over his scruff, wondering if Gabe felt the tension.

He glanced sideways just in time to see Gabe pop a yellow Starburst into his mouth. It took him a moment, but with a jolt, he realized Gabe hadn't unwrapped it. _The fuck…?_

Gabe worked it around in his mouth for about ten seconds; Lu dizzily started imagining what his tongue was doing and he hated the effect it had on him. When the wrapper appeared between his lips and Gabe reached up to take it, he saw that, somehow, he still had a perfectly straight face. He was _definitely_ aware of the tension, in fact encouraging it, and now he seemed to be fucking with Lu.

Still not looking at him, he extended the pack of Starbursts toward Lu again. "'nother?"

He took one begrudgingly (only partly because it was a pink one) and took a moment to glare at him, but Gabe never looked at him. Lu unwrapped his and ate it like a dignified person, but Gabe once again stuck a wrapped Starburst into his mouth, worked that tongue around the candy, and pulled the wrapper from between his lips.

Gabe's face never betrayed even a hint of a smile. This only happened when he was fucking with people. He was _definitely_ fucking with Lu. _No one_ fucked with Lucifer Pellegrino, not even Gabriel Speight.

If you asked him later why he did it, he would say he was temporarily insane, even though he knew full well that in the courtroom, that defense hardly ever flew. In truth, he knew exactly what he was doing when he reached over and grabbed Gabe's hand to get his attention.

His action had the desired effect. Gabe finally looked at him and Lu didn't hesitate another moment before pulling them together and kissing him hard.

Almost immediately, Gabe fisted his fingers in Lu's dirty-blond hair and opened his mouth to moan into Lu's. His breath was hot and sweet from the Starbursts and Lu swept his tongue into Gabe's mouth to get a better taste. He tightened his grip on Gabe's wrist and dug his fingers into the skin over his hip, enjoying the way his best friend arched into his touch and moaned again in what was probably both pain and pleasure. He leaned forward and nudged Gabe back until he was flat on his back against the couch cushions and he finally moved his mouth from Gabe's to his neck where he bit down, perhaps harder than necessary, but no one had ever accused Lu of being too gentle.

Gabe hissed and then groaned, "Oh, Jesus, _fuck_ …!" Overcome by Lu above him, he slipped his fingers under the hem of his dress shirt and T-shirt and started tracing the outline of the wings Lu had tattooed on his back.

These wings of Lu's, they were nearly identical to the ones Gabe had tattooed on _his_ back, but while Lu's were outlined in black and colored in red, Gabe had his outlined in both black and a dark gold and filled in with a slightly lighter gold; the metallic ink had cost extra, but the effect was well worth the price. They had gotten their wings done at the same time after a night of one too many shots of Four Horsemen when they were twenty-two, but when they woke up the next morning, they were in awe of how detailed and intricate the tattoos were. At that point, they hadn't cared that they'd gotten the idea from Ray and Mikey (who had also gotten wings tattooed on their backs) or that Castiel would soon follow suit—they'd gotten theirs done together, and it was a permanent mark of their bond.

He ran his fingers over the red feathers and felt Lu's breathing stutter a little under his touch. Lu scraped his teeth over his neck and down to his collarbone where he bit and sucked, marking Gabe as he slid his knee between Gabe's legs. Reflexively, Gabe rutted his hips against Lu's thigh and gasped when Lu moved a bit further down and bit against the hollow of his throat and slid his hand into the waistband of Gabe's boxers.

He licked a path from his throat to behind his left ear, smirking when Gabe dug his nails into his back gasped again, involuntarily grinding against his thigh again. He knew Lu could feel how hard he was already, but he didn't care anymore—he just needed some friction, _anything_ to relieve this pressure. For once, teasing Lu hadn't been a total mistake.

The hand in his boxers slowly—infuriatingly slowly—trailed to his cock and he sighed when Lu wrapped his fingers around him.

"Is this what you want from me?" Lu growled low into his ear, starting to pump slowly, and Gabe couldn't help the whimper that escaped his throat or the pathetic way he nodded.

"Yeah… oh, fuck yeah, Luc…" He was almost a breath away from hissing out Lu's full name, something he never did at Lu's request.

Lu hadn't seemed to notice Gabe's near slip of the tongue; he exhaled sharply and picked up the tempo, causing Gabe's eyes to melt shut as he scraped his nails over Lu's wings, silently begging _Faster_. Suddenly, he was aching for release, fucking into Lu's fist and moaning every time his hand slid tightly over him. "Oh, fuck yes… _yes_ , more!"

"Say my name," Lu breathed, tightening his grip and moving his fist a bit faster.

"Lu…" Gabe's voice trembled.

"My _full_ name," came Lu's growl now.

"Fuck… Lucifer, yes, just like that! Yes!" He felt himself careening toward the edge. He was going to come any second. And then Lu snarled into his ear, "Again."

Gabriel came hard, his hot seed staining the inside of his boxers as he almost screamed, "Lucifer!" He raised his hips against Lu's hand, arching his back as he rode out his orgasm, and then fell back onto the couch.

Lu panted hard into his ear, slowly releasing Gabe's cock while his best friend lay against the cushions, trying to catch his breath. _What the fuck did I just do?_ Lu wondered wildly.

Wiping his hand off on his khakis—and vowing to wash them the moment he got home—he almost jumped off the couch and ran out the door.

Gabe watched him as he left, wondering what caused that reaction, but feeling self-satisfied anyway. His own goal had been accomplished: not once during the whole event had Sam Smith crossed his mind.

He sighed and finished watching the movie, slowly working through the bottle of Mountain Dew and the pack of Starbursts.

* * *

_"Lucifer Pellegrino went from being single to 'It's complicated.'"_


	12. Reconnection

"You cannot sit here every day after work just drinking beer," Anna said patiently. "I know moving back here was difficult but maybe you can reconnect with some of your old friends."

Dean tried not to scowl as he lifted his bottle of beer to his lips. "My old friends have all moved away."

Anna sighed. "Okay, then, how about you go hang out with Sam Smith? I think you'd like him. He's not a bad guy, and apart from me and Cas, he doesn't really have any friends here, either."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Lovely. Two losers thrown together by mutual loser-ness."

She sighed again, more irritated this time. "Sam is not a loser, and neither are you. I think you two would get along, and what do you have to lose by at least _talking_ to the guy?"

He mulled it over, taking another swig of his beer. In all honesty, he really wasn't opposed to the idea of really getting to know Sam Smith and dispelling whatever high school delusions he had about him, and it might just get his mind off Castiel, which was always a good thing. "Alright, fine, I'll hang out with the guy."

* * *

That was how Dean ended up sitting across from Sam at J. Edgar's on Hoover, this hole-in-the-wall bar about a block from Tony's Auto Repair. They'd been here for ten minutes already, and conversation wasn't exactly flowing. Dean typically wasn't very chatty when he felt preoccupied—and for the last nearly two and a half months, he'd felt preoccupied almost every waking moment—and Sam was a generally quiet guy.

"So," Sam said finally. "Awkward."

Dean snorted lightly with laughter. "Just a little."

"Y'know, Anna, Cas, and I planned on hanging out sometime, but we still haven't. I take it she's still a forceful girl?"

"Yeah, you have no idea," Dean said. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he didn't know why.

The silence hadn't been uncomfortable, which was probably the strangest thing about the whole situation. It almost felt like they knew each other and didn't know it.

"So I know how you and Cas became friends, but how did you and Anna meet? She never told me that."

"Oh, God, _that_ ," Sam laughed. "It's such a stupid story, but it just makes sense.

"Okay, well, after our first semester of freshman year was over, one of mine and Cas's elective classes was Theatre Arts, and Anna was in the class, too. She was really bubbly and chatty and I guess that annoyed just about everyone she encountered because, if I remember correctly, she didn't have any friends at that point. Well, Cas kind of felt bad for her I guess and started talking to her, and then he made _me_ talk to her. And yeah, I was annoyed at first, too, but then I got to know her because the three of us had to work on this final project together and I realized she wasn't so bad. She did most of the work and let us hang out at her house after school and I realized she was really nice, even if she did talk a lot. But for some reason, she never annoyed Cas. It was like he could always see what a good person she was."

Dean nodded, dumbstruck. It felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. If it was possible, he was even more in love with Castiel than he'd been five minutes before, and even more upset by it because it was clearer now that yes, Castiel really had been in love with Anna—and for nearly ten years now, no less—and now… Now Castiel hated him because Dean had Anna. "Wow. That's amazing."

Sam laughed again, somehow oblivious to Dean's discomfort. "Yeah, it is." He thought for a moment. "How did you know how Cas and I became friends? Did Anna tell you?"

He felt his heart stop for a moment before it started hammering in his chest. "Um, no. I kind of saw it. I mean, I'm assuming it was your first day of your freshman year, right? The day James Tyson started fucking with you? And Castiel appeared and kind of… held him off, I guess. Like he stayed with you until a teacher took Tyson out of the cafeteria."

Sam gave him an unreadable look but nodded. "Yeah, that was exactly it. He was in my history class the next hour, too, so he was with me for awhile after that. He's just an all-around good guy."

"Yeah, I guess so." Dean felt sick. Sure, talking to Sam was as easy as _not_ talking to Sam, but he was more convinced than ever that he needed to give Anna up and let Castiel have his chance with her. "Hey, Sam, let me ask you something."

"Sure."

"If you were… dating someone and you didn't have strong feelings for them but you knew someone else did, would you break up with them to give the other person a shot?"

"Um…" Sam scratched his chin. "Well, honestly, I'd say that if you were dating someone you didn't have strong feelings for, you should probably break up on that alone. Mind if I ask why?"

Dean wasn't sure how much he should say. He debated internally for a few moments and finally decided to spill the whole truth. "I like being with Anna. She's sweet and she makes me laugh and she makes me feel needed—well, she did. I've been kind of an asshole to her lately and I can tell she's kind of losing her patience with me. I haven't left the house apart from work in awhile and that's why she suggested we hang out. But somehow, I make her happy and I like knowing that. But I think… I get the feeling that Cas hates me and I'm pretty sure it's because he's in love with Anna and he resents me for being with her. I feel like I should break up with her so Cas can have his chance, y'know?"

Sam stared at him for a moment that stretched almost endlessly before it snapped, recoiling and almost slapping Dean in the face with the answer of, "Cas likes guys."

"Just guys?"

"Pretty sure. He for _damn_ sure doesn't like Anna, though. Not like that, anyway."

"Oh."

"Last I heard—and this was a month, month and a half ago—he was kinda dating that Taz Lords guy. Not seriously or anything, but they _are_ seeing each other. That's a big deal for Cas," Sam added with a small laugh. "From what I heard, he hasn't dated in awhile."

"Oh," Dean said again, fighting to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Fortunately, Sam appeared to be oblivious.

"And he doesn't hate anyone. Fuck, he doesn't even hate that Lu guy."

"Lu?" Where had Dean heard that name before? "Lu Pellegrino?"

"Yeah, him. Cas's brother Mikey hates him, but Cas doesn't."

"Well, for someone who doesn't hate anyone, he sure seems to dislike me."

"There has to be a logical explanation for that. Want me to ask him?"

"Oh, good God, no. That's kind of… juvenile, I guess, is the word I'm looking for."

Sam chuckled once. "Yeah, I guess so."

Dean sighed. "Well, I guess if he really doesn't like Anna, then I'm not gonna break up with her. Like I said, I make her happy, and she deserves that, so…" He shrugged and took another swig of his beer.

"Well, don't you?"

Castiel's face flashed briefly through his mind and he felt that, somehow, he was the biggest asshole in the world. "I don't know that I'll ever be really happy with someone."

Sam was silent for a moment, taking a drink from his glass of beer, before finally saying, "So, Cas liking guys… Does that bother you?"

Dean scoffed. "Hell, no."

"Oh, good. So… You were in the same grade as Gabriel Speight, right?"

"Yeah. I had a few classes with him."

"Do you know if… if he likes guys?"

"I honestly have no idea. We were never friends. We didn't dislike each other or anything, we were just… acquaintances. We hung out with different groups. I was kind of a jock, he and Lu were stoners… That kind of thing. I know he somehow dated Kali Wilson at least, so I think he's into chicks, but I don't know what his opinion is on guys. Why?"

Sam looked a little embarrassed, his cheeks turning red. "I don't know. He's kind of cute is all."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. Cas could probably give you more information than I could."

"Yeah, he's apparently known Gabe his whole life. Just… I don't know, it would feel kind of weird, talking to him about one of his friends like that, y'know?"

He laughed again. "So you pick a total stranger instead."

"You're not a total stranger. I mean," Sam was quick to clarify, "we _have_ kind of known each other for about ten years, even if we haven't _known_ each other, right? Everyone knew Dean and Rachel Wesson."

"Heh. Yeah, I guess so."

"You still run?"

"I can't, at least as well as I used to. Blew out my knee my sophomore year at a meet. Hasn't bent right since then." It was something he tried not to dwell on. "So in case you were wondering why I'm a mechanic, not an Olympian, that's why. I wasn't a great student, so…" He shrugged.

"I'm sorry to hear that. That really sucks."

"Yeah, but I try not to think about it. It won't change anything, y'know?"

"Yeah, that's true. Hey, listen, maybe you and I should hang out with Cas sometime. Like this weekend, before it gets too cold to go to the beach. I mean, I'm surprised it's not too cold already, but still."

It sounded like the last thing that Dean wanted to do, but he knew as Sam suggested it that he wasn't going to be able to say no. As much as he hated himself for it, he wanted to see Castiel again. "Yeah, sounds good to me."

* * *

_"Sam Smith and Dean Wesson are now friends."_


	13. Like a Real Angel

Castiel threw a towel and a bottle of sunblock into a mesh bag and sat in the kitchen to wait for Sam. He was looking forward to a day off work, a day where he didn't have to focus on his fucked-up emotional crises, a day with his high school best friend—the one who wasn't dating his high school crush, anyway.

"Someone seems cheerful this morning," Mikey said, not looking up from his newspaper.

"Don't you have work or something?" Castiel asked.

"Not on Saturdays, bitch." He looked up. "Going to the beach with Taz?"

"No, with Sam."

"Oooh, if Taz calls, I'll let him know his boyfriend is with another man."

Sometimes, Mikey could be a really cool older brother. Other times, he was a massive pain in the ass. Today was apparently the latter. "He's not my _boyfriend_ ," Castiel seethed.

"And whose fault is that? You've been… doing whatever the fuck it is for, what, a month now? A month and a half?"

"Yeah, so?" Castiel didn't like where this conversation was going.

Mikey sighed patiently. "Have you even slept with him yet?"

"Jesus Christ, Mikey! That's none of your fucking business!"

"But it is _your_ fucking business," Mikey answered, putting the word "fucking" in air quotes.

Turning an unattractive shade of red, Castiel rolled his eyes and spat, "No, Michael, I have not slept with Taz."

"Why not?"

A fair question, indeed. It wasn't that he or Taz was unwilling—God, they'd been alone enough together to know they had at least a _little_ sexual chemistry—but Castiel had a tendency to get extremely emotionally invested once sex was involved. Part of it was that he didn't want to be used, but he knew that if Taz was still putting up with him after this long without sex in the foreseeable future, he probably wasn't in this to fuck him over. He might as well just have this conversation with Taz, tell him they should make their relationship official, but he knew he wasn't entirely ready for that level just yet. For now, he was good company, he made awesome mixed drinks, and he kept Castiel's mind off Dean. That was okay, right?

"I don't want to have this conversation, okay?"

"Alright." Mikey shook his newspaper out and turned the page. "Safe bet that you'll be out all day?"

"Probably, why? Planning a party or something?"

"Not for you, I'm not." A faint smirk crossed Mikey's face. "Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean I'm not."

"Ew, Mike. Ew."

"Don't you even want to know who she is?" His tone was light and taunting, and Castiel rolled his eyes as Sam's forest green Jeep Liberty pulled up.

"As long as she's not a student, I don't give a fuck. And if she _is_ a student, let it go on record that I voiced my disapproval." He slid out of his seat, picked up his bag, and walked out the door, leaving Mikey alone to heave with silent giggles.

He nearly walked right back into his house when he saw who was currently sliding from the front passenger's seat to the back seat. Apparently, Sam had decided not to tell him that Dean Wesson, clad in swim trunks and a faded Black Sabbath shirt, was accompanying them.

 _Fuck my life_ , he thought bitterly, knowing there was no way he could bow out in a socially acceptable manner.

* * *

Dean unbuckled the moment Sam pulled up in front of Castiel's house.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

"He's _your_ best friend. I'm not making him sit in the back seat."

"Well—" Sam started to protest, but then he sighed. Dean was already out the door and opening the back door. As he did so, he happened to glance back and notice that Castiel had appeared on the front porch and was frozen there with a look on his face that could only be called panicked.

Sam had clearly not told Castiel that Dean was coming along, and his heart sank. _How come_ I'm _the only one he hates?_

For a moment, it seemed like Castiel was about to bolt back into the house, but he finally walked to the car, opened the door, and slid in. "Hello, Sam." His voice seemed strained as he added, "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas." Dean convinced himself he imagined the tremble in his voice, but as Sam pulled away from the curb, he knew he couldn't convince himself that Castiel was visibly upset, trying to make himself smaller in the seat. _That's it. I don't know what I did to make this guy hate me so much, but I am going to be sweet as fucking pie to him today._

Kill him with kindness. He couldn't have the guy he'd liked for ten years hate him like this. He was going to be the nicest guy in the world.

* * *

As it turned out, it was almost too easy to be nice to Castiel. Even though he kept casting Dean suspicious glances every time he offered to get something—food, soda, an umbrella, a paddleboat—Dean found he didn't mind.

Sam, on the other hand, was growing progressively more irritated with Castiel's unjustified coldness. He sent Dean on a run for the goggles Sam and left in the car and, once Dean was out of earshot, he smacked the back of Castiel's head.

"What is your problem? Why are you being such an ass to Dean?"

"I'm not!" Castiel protested, even though he knew it was true.

"Yes, you are. He's a nice guy. You know, when he told me you didn't like him, I thought he was delusional or exaggerating, but now I'm starting to see what he's talking about. He's a good guy. I don't get it. What did he do to you?"

Castiel bit his lip, glanced toward the car and Dean still rummaging through the trunk, and sighed. "Don't tell Dean what I'm about to tell you. Promise me, okay?"

Sam glanced back toward Dean, too. "Okay, I promise," he said, feeling like they were back in high school again.

"Well… the thing is, I don't want to like him, but I do." He sighed again, hunching over and burying his face in his hands. "I've had a huge crush on him since we were freshmen, okay? This is a huge pain in the ass for me because I basically managed to forget about him for the last few years, but now that he's back… It fucking hurts. Make sense?"

Sam stared at him. "Oh, God, really? And he's dating Anna now, too…"

"Yeah. Taz has been getting my mind off it for the most part, though. But at least for right now, I just don't think I can be friends or whatever with Dean. I want to, but it hurts."

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah, I understand completely."

* * *

Dean turned to head back to Sam and Castiel, but he stopped when he saw the intense look on Sam's face and the way Castiel was hunched over, the black-and-blue tattooed wings rippling over his back.

Those wings. The moment that Castiel had pulled off his shirt, Dean was transfixed by those wings. They were beautifully detailed angel wings stretching from the tops of his shoulder blades to just above his hips, almost meeting at his spine. The inked feathers looked almost real and somehow seemed to glow, although that may have simply been his imagination. He felt a strangely preternatural desire to run his fingers over the wings and feel Castiel's skin underneath, but he managed to suppress it.

Sam and Castiel were clearly having a private conversation, one they'd waited to have until he was gone. He had a feeling they were talking about him; he hoped Sam was suggesting Castiel give Dean a chance or at least figure out _why_ Castiel didn't like him.

He leaned back against the car and wished he'd brought a soda or something with him. It looked like Sam and Castiel were going to be talking for awhile, and he didn't want to interrupt. Regretting that he had nothing with which to distract himself, he let his mind wander.

Anna had gone out today, too. Another movie with some other friend. Who it was, Dean really couldn't be bothered to find out, but it was the third time in a week she'd gone out. Last weekend, she'd gone out on Friday night and hadn't come back until Sunday afternoon. Lazily, he entertained the notion that she was having an affair, and he realized he wouldn't care if she was. _If she wants to leave me, she will._ Not that he blamed her for it—he had been a pretty terrible boyfriend for the past few months.

But no, she wasn't the type. If she had a problem with him, she'd tell him—she wouldn't avoid the issue. It made him feel worse because he'd been distant and wouldn't tell her why.

Castiel stood up and started walking toward the water. In a few moments, he was in up to his waist and he happened to glance back, his arms outstretched at his sides and a sad look on his face as his impossibly deep blue eyes locked with Dean's. His next heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears, freezing him as though he'd seen this before but he didn't know how. Castiel turned back and dived the rest of the way into the water.

Dean blinked and felt himself coming out of his trance or whatever it was. Swinging Sam's goggles in his right hand, he walked back to where Sam was still sitting, having pulled out a thick book— _Jesus Christ, a textbook? Really?_ —and started reading.

"Isn't it against the law to study on a Saturday?" Dean asked, sitting next to Sam.

Sam half-smiled and closed the book. "I guess you're right. Ha, sorry."

"Yep." Dean reached into the cooler and fished out two cans of Coke, holding one out to Sam, who took it gratefully. "So, listen, if you two want to talk at all while I'm here, you can ask me to leave, you know. You don't have to send me on some bullshit goggle run or something."

Sam had the decency to look a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry. Was it that obvious?"

"Only when I turned around and you looked like he was explaining… string theory or something."

He actually laughed at that. "I'm really sorry, though. We haven't been friends for that long, so I didn't know if that would offend you or not."

 _Friends?_ He took a moment to ponder that and decided he liked the idea of Sam Smith being his friend—Anna was right, he was a good guy. He was pretty stable, a good counterpoint to his own obsessive moodiness. "Yeah, not much offends me. Don't worry about it."

Castiel let himself float along, the sun warming the skin on his stomach and chest before he turned over and dived down. His eyes closed and hovered below the surface for about a minute at a time, holding his breath and thinking.

He hadn't been able to resist that backwards glance at Dean and saw with a jolt that his eyes had been on him. He hadn't expected that or the look on Dean's face that could only be described as admiring. It was probably the wings, he decided. They tended to get appreciative looks and comments once he took his shirt off. Sure, they'd been inspired by Gabe's and Lu's wings (who had gotten the idea from Mikey and Ray), but he felt strangely complete after they were done. Almost like a real angel.

He shook himself mentally, trying to get Dean's expression out of his head. Finally coming back up for air, he looked over to where Sam and Dean were talking and sighed.

 _What the Hell am I waiting for? A written invitation?_ He made a mental note to call Taz the moment he got home today. It was time to fix this mess.

* * *

_"Castiel Novak, Sam Smith, and Dean Wesson just checked into North Side Beach."_


	14. Take It Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar runs his bar like Ke$ha runs her life: Glitter and sluts everywhere.

He felt like he was in a fog as they headed back to Sam's Jeep and he dropped him off at home. He mumbled his goodbyes to Sam and Dean and found himself in his room before he was aware of the silence pervading the house.

No Mikey. No Gabe. No Lu. Gabe was probably working tonight, which explained Lu's absence as well, but Castiel couldn't fathom where the hell else Mikey would be on a Saturday night. He didn't do clubs and he wouldn't be at Ray's tonight—Ray worked almost every Saturday.

 _Must be his mystery woman._ Personally, he was happy that Mikey had finally deemed someone worthy of his affections, because he'd typically been notorious for having low opinions of most of the women he encountered. For a time, Castiel had entertained the notion that his brother was into guys as well, but he was relieved that it didn't appear to be the case. He knew if he had to deal with Mikey as competition, he would end up figuratively screwed—who would give him half a chance when Michael Novak was available?

He managed to pull himself from the cycle of self-loathing upon which he was about to embark by reminding himself that Taz had barely glanced twice at Mikey. That thought cheered him up and carried him through his quick shower and led him to keep his promise to himself.

He found Taz's name in his contact list and hit the button to call him. Almost immediately, he started pacing, registering that he'd changed his ring back tone from Adam Lambert to something that sounded outrageously like Ke$ha. _What the fuck is up with his music choices?_

"Evening, love. How are you?"

"I'm good. Went to the beach with Sam today." He purposely neglected to mention that Dean was there, too. "Did you do anything exciting?"

"Not really, unless you consider restocking 'exciting.'"

Castiel chuckled. "No, I really don't. Are you at work right now?"

"Eh, kind of but not really. We have more people working tonight. If I left, no one would miss me." His tone grew mischievous. "Why? Planning something?"

He grinned, still pacing his floor. "I may have entertained the notion of kidnapping you for the night."

"Oh, my. I do hope handcuffs are involved."

He actually started laughing at that. "If you play your cards right."

"I'm quivering with anticipation."

Castiel was so overcome with a case of the giggles that he had to put his phone down to prop himself up against his desk. Once he'd recovered, he picked up his phone and managed to choke out, "I would certainly hate to keep you quivering much longer—" here, Taz started laughing, and it made Castiel smile "—so I'll be right there."

They hung up, both of them trying to contain their laughter, and Castiel quickly changed out of his sweats into a pair of black pants and a dark blue button-down shirt. That was a bit more appropriate for a night out, he decided. As an afterthought, he slid his glasses into his back pocket and then headed out.

Right before he started up his car, though, he popped his glasses in his glove compartment.

* * *

He hadn't been back to the Lord & Lady since the night he'd accidentally-on-purpose gotten shitfaced, but he could swear the exact same dirty, gritty punk band as last time was spewing from the jukebox. Maybe the same song, but he couldn't be sure. The lighting was different, though—more blue and purple, less red than last time—and the bar was packed tonight. Apparently, in the last five or six weeks, word had finally spread about the bar and it had become a hit, which certainly explained how he didn't recognize the six or seven bartenders pouring shots and mixing drinks. He scanned the whole room and didn't see Taz, and he suddenly felt awkward.

Fortunately, Mary appeared and rescued him. "Hey, hon! Looking for Taz?"

"Uh, yeah. Is he busy, or…?"

"Oh, not at all. He's just in the back talking to Lu Pellegrino. You know him, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I know him." Castiel smiled with relief. "He's a friend of mine."

"Oh." A strange look crossed Mary's face, but it quickly vanished. "Okay, well, I'll go let him know you're here. Why don't you get a drink? Tell them Mary sent you and they won't charge you," she added cheerfully.

Thankful for something to do, he located the shortest line and only had to wait about three minutes before he drew up to a guy with a considerable amount of scruff and a nametag reading CHUCK. "Hey, can I get a Screwdriver? Mary sent me."

"Sure, no problem." Chuck pulled out a glass and a bottle of Stoli, dispensing the orange juice as he said, "I've never seen you around before. How do you know Mary?"

"Actually, I'm one of Taz's friends. I think the last time I was here, about a month ago, there was almost no one here." He shrugged as Chuck poured what was probably more vodka than necessary into the glass. "I guess business picked up since then."

"Yeah, it really took off since then." Chuck slid the bottle back under the bar and smiled. "There you go. Come back to me if you need anything else, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Castiel picked up his glass and tried to find an empty table, but that attempt was futile. He ended up standing next to a support beam and looking around at nothing in particular.

He was just finishing off his drink when he saw Lu come through a door from the back and head straight across the bar and out the front door. A moment later, Taz appeared from the same door and looked around until he located Castiel and headed straight toward him, a playful smirk on his face. "Hello, love," he said, his accent still sending a shiver down Castiel's spine as he leaned down to steal a quick kiss.

"Hey, Taz," Castiel answered, smiling, once his lips were free. "What's going on?"

"Still quivering with anticipation," Taz joked, and it made Castiel laugh.

"Well, that's fortunate. I trust I can still kidnap you for the night?"

"Of course. I'm assuming your brother isn't home then?"

That made Castiel pause. "Actually, I don't know where exactly he is. Or when he'll be home."

Taz smirked and shrugged. "You could kidnap me back to my place, you know."

Castiel grinned. "An excellent idea. I think it's about time we got out of here, don't you?"

He gave Castiel another, less innocent kiss. He traced the seam of Castiel's lips with his tongue and Castiel sighed softly, his eyes sliding shut. Just as he was starting to fall into his kiss, Taz pulled back, smiling dangerously. "Definitely time to get out of here."

* * *

Castiel didn't know how he managed to drive the two miles from the bar to Taz's apartment with Taz's hands already working on his shirt and his tongue on his neck, but not soon enough, Castiel was pulling into the spot designated for guests and he and Taz were crawling out of the Ranger through the driver side door. Taz slammed the door shut behind them and pressed Castiel against the door, finally able to slide his tongue into Castiel's mouth.

He groaned, gripping the lapels of Taz's jacket to keep himself upright; Taz's wandering hands—one at the back of his neck, the other moving to his ass—were doing little to hold him up. Taz closed the small amount of space between them so their bodies were flush and Castiel couldn't help enjoying the heat he felt radiating off Taz's chest.

Taz's fingers gently scraped under Castiel's shirt and up his ribs and Castiel shivered against him, moaning louder than he expected. He felt Taz smiling—actually _smirking_ was probably the right word—against his mouth and a moment later, he was blinking dizzily into Taz's eyes.

"C'mon," he whispered, his hand finding Castiel's and pulling him toward the door.

Part of him hoped the elevator didn't have a camera in it, but by the time they got off on the fifth floor, he didn't care who heard his near-pornographic moans as Taz's hands started in on his shirt and his mouth nearly devoured his neck. He found that spot on the side of his neck that turned him into Jell-O and Castiel groaned, twisting his fingers through Taz's hair and rutting his hips against Taz's. When the bell _ding_ ed and Taz backed him out of the elevator, he'd just finished unbuttoning the last two buttons of his shirt and he pushed Taz's jacket from his shoulders but held onto it and Taz reached into a pocket and grabbed his keys.

Taz fumbled to open his door, trying to split his attention between the keys in his hand and Castiel against the door. "Bollocks," he muttered, giving in and kissing Castiel again. It was getting too hard to focus on anything that wasn't him, but somehow, he managed to unlock his door and they stumbled inside.

He locked the door behind him as Castiel dropped his jacket on the kitchen table, and he tugged Castiel's shirt off, pinning him against the wall as he licked from the waistband of his pants up, slowly, agonizingly, to his collarbone where he sucked a bruise into the soft skin. Castiel keened, wrapping his arms around Taz's neck and feeling himself sliding down the wall. Taz caught him easily and, as he moved up to Castiel's neck and nibbled, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

"Oh, God…" Castiel groaned again and pushed Taz just far enough back so that it wasn't a huge hassle to pull his shirt over his head. Once the offending piece of cotton was on the floor, Taz pressed up against Castiel again and, his hands pushing at his pants and boxers, swept his tongue back into Castiel's mouth.

Castiel pushed back against Taz and started walking them towards the bedroom. He'd been here enough times to know his way there blindfolded, which was fortunate for him because he was walking backwards, pulling a not-reluctant Taz along with him. Finally, Taz kicked the door shut behind them and nudged Castiel back against the bed, tugging his pants the rest of the way down as Castiel kicked off his shoes and socks. Still in his own pants, Taz moved over him and licked at his chest again. He finally reached between them and into Castiel's boxers, trailing his fingers over his quickly-hardening erection. Castiel hissed and shut his eyes as he arched into Taz's touch. "Oh, God," he breathed again, and then started shoving down Taz's pants, too.

Somehow, the pilot light that was always burning just below the surface of Castiel's being had sparked a fire. It started to blaze out of control when Taz slid their boxers down and wrapped one hand around Castiel's cock while he rummaged in his nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube. Castiel's breath hitched in his throat and he groaned as Taz leaned down and lapped at the side of his neck again. All he could feel now was Taz's tongue and teeth scraping down his neck, causing pinpricks of pleasure that made him even harder, which explained how he didn't notice what must have been Taz pouring a generous amount of lubricant into his palm and over his fingers because the next thing he felt was one of Taz's fingers pressing against his entrance.

He hissed as the slickened digit pushed inside him, then he moaned softly once he adjusted to the sweet burn. A moment later, a second finger joined the first and Castiel fisted the sheets and tried to focus on not coming already. "Oh, my God," he breathed, his body craving release. "Fuck, _Taz_..."

This was as far as it ever went with them to this point, but _Jesus Christ_ , it never felt any less hot when Taz dragged his fingers over his prostate and stars started dancing in the corners of his vision. When he added a third finger, Castiel thought he would burn out if he didn't get off soon. "Taz, _fuck me_ ," he moaned before he could stop himself, but he found he didn't regret the words. In fact, when he opened his eyes, he saw that he liked the effect his words had on Taz: his blue eyes had nearly turned black with desire, his face was flushed, and he was, if possible, even harder than Castiel. He bit his lip, not quite managing to suppress his small, confident smirk, and repeated, "Fuck me— _now_."

Taz was only too happy to oblige, tearing open the condom wrapper with his teeth and putting it on in record time. A moment later, he slicked his latex-sheathed cock with more lube and positioned himself between Castiel's thighs. "Ready?" he breathed, and when Castiel nodded, he pushed into him slowly, trying to be gentle—Castiel had told him that it had been awhile since the last time he'd actually had sex—but the way his eyes fluttered and he reached for his erection made him not want to take it easy.

He moaned into Castiel's neck and sharply inhaled the scent. He could smell the faint, lingering bit of salt from the sea on his skin, mixed with whatever soap he'd used to try to scrub it off, and it made his heart beat faster. He tried to focus on the scent and not the slick, hot tightness of Castiel's body clamped on him, but he raised his hips to take him deeper and Taz was gone, lost in the fire and ice that was Castiel.

He barely registered the increasing volume of Castiel's moans or the smaller man's nails raking over his shoulders, but when he wrapped his legs around Taz's waist, he took notice, sliding into him harder, faster; he enjoyed the pleasured whimper that escaped, sounding suspiciously like Taz's name.

He didn't know how much longer he could last with Castiel making those sounds—fuck, it _had_ to be illegal for someone to sound that hot—but then, with a string of curses that would have made a sailor proud, Castiel rutted against him and with one more thrust of Taz's hips, he finally came.

It was Taz's breaking point, and he fell against Castiel, following suit a moment later, and for several long minutes, they just lay there, letting the afterglow subside.

Once Castiel could see again, he wrapped his arms around Taz's shoulders and finally got his first look at the tattoo on his back.

It wasn't the fact that Balthazar Lords _had_ a tattoo on his back that surprised him—after all, most people wouldn't peg _him_ as the tattoo type, either—but what it actually was. A pair of wings.

Taz's wings looked remarkably similar to the ones on his own back, but not quite as detailed and outlined and shaded in blue, not black, with streaks of gold. They stretched down to his bottom ribs and Castiel found himself tracing the patterns of the feathers.

"Mmm, so you found the mark of my wild days," Taz murmured sleepily into his neck. "I was thinking about getting them removed, actually."

"They're nice. I like them. Why didn't you mention them?"

Taz shrugged. "Not important. Why?" He looked up and smiled mischievously. "Do you have any hidden tattoos?"

Castiel grinned. "Yes. I'd show you, but you need to get off me, first."

Taz sighed in mock exasperation but disentangled himself from Castiel's body. Once he was free, Castiel rolled onto his right side and showed off the wings rippling down his back. Behind him, he heard Taz laugh.

"I believe that is the definition of irony. I like yours better, though."

Castiel rolled back over and smiled. "They weren't my idea—not really. Mikey and Ray got these wings about ten years ago, on my brother's eighteenth birthday, and a few years later, Lu and Gabe got shitfaced and got their own wings. I happened to like the idea, though."

"They seem to fit you."

"Sometimes I wonder," Castiel sighed. He snuggled into Taz's warm chest and let Taz's arm drape over him. A sense of comfort, of safety washed over him. "Thanks, Taz," he murmured.

"For what, love?"

"Everything."

* * *

_"Balthazar Lords and Castiel Novak are in a relationship."_


	15. We've Got a Big Mess on Our Hands

There was a knock on the door, and then Mary stuck her head in the room. "Hey, Taz, Cas is here."

Lu was surprised he didn't get whiplash from how fast his head snapped in Taz's direction, but Taz still looked utterly relaxed and it completely infuriated Lu, how damn _hot_ he looked leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He wanted to either punch him or kiss him—he couldn't figure out which urge was stronger—but he settled for shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket and balling them into fists. He only half-hoped his irritation didn't show on his face as Mary ducked back out.

 _Motherfucking Castiel Novak._ In the past two months, he'd become a huge pain in the ass. Not that he blamed Castiel—Taz was eight kinds of tasty—and even though he couldn't figure out where _he_ stood with the guy, it was pretty obvious that Taz had a thing for Castiel. Even though Lu could sense Taz needed someone a little darker, more dangerous, than Castiel. Even though sometimes it seemed like Taz was looking at _him_ , too—and that was where Lu's head was getting fucked. He noticed little details that most people missed, like the way Mary looked almost nervous as she told Taz that Castiel was here (and he had a feeling it was because of him, not Taz) or how Gabe's eyes flickered just when he was about to come or how Ray had watched Anna, thinking he was being casual, but it was clear to Lu that he liked her a _lot_. He knew people, knew that Mikey could be an asshole but was a good guy underneath it, which was probably why he hated Lu—because he and Lu were so similar that Lu reminded Mikey of himself, just that Lu let his asshole side show more often than Mikey did, something that had driven the older man nuts for the seventeen or so years they'd known each other. He knew that Gabe didn't need him nearly as much as he needed Gabe. He knew that Dean Wesson would probably spiral into a cycle of self-destruction if he didn't get his shit together. He was always able to figure people out within the first ten minutes of talking to them, something that made him a damn good lawyer.

In fact, the first person Lu _couldn't_ figure out was moving toward the door to find his sort-of boyfriend.

He couldn't stop himself. "Taz."

Taz turned, his blue-eyed gaze locking with Lu's, and moved back to him. "Yes, Luce?"

Lu had a standing order that no one was allowed to call him Lucifer except Gabe—and he was only allowed to call him that while they… did whatever the fuck it was that they did because of the way he said it, like a curse and a prayer rolled into one; it made him actually feel powerful, like the embodiment of the fallen angel, and just as twisted. His own parents didn't even call him Lucifer, not since he was eight. No one, under any circumstances, was allowed to call him Luci, not even Gabe, and he would punch anyone who called him that—even Gabe. "Lu" was pretty much the only option people had, but when Taz had started calling him "Luce," he found he didn't mind terribly.

Not that he would ever let anyone else call him that.

But when Taz looked at him like that, he lost the words he was going to say. There was no way he could convey what was going on in his head without looking like a total idiot. "Never mind," he muttered, pushing past Taz to exit the room.

If he expected Taz to grab him by the arm, pull him back, and demand an explanation, he would have been disappointed, because he just let him go. But Lu hadn't expected it, wasn't disappointed when Taz made no move to stop him. At least, that's what he told himself.

He had a tendency to throw mini-tantrums when he was pissed off. He was actually surprised he didn't try to break anything as he stormed out the front door and to his car. As he started up the car and pulled out of the lot, he didn't consciously know where he was going, but some part of him had a pretty good idea. He figured it out, though, when he realized he'd parked in front of Gabe's house.

Gabe wasn't at the station tonight, and he wasn't at the Novaks', either—the light from the living room was on, a little sliver of flickering light emanating from the television hitting the sidewalk from between the barely-parted curtains.

Lu's brain, usually spinning a hundred miles an hour, seemed to screech to a stop as he slowly and methodically got out of his Dodge, locked it, and started up the path to Gabe's house. He paused at the front door, half-wondering if he was really about to do this, if it was what he really wanted or if he was just reacting to whatever was going on between him and Taz. But seemingly of its own accord, his hand raised and knocked, and suddenly the door opened, and there was Gabe standing there with his long, golden-blond hair tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed—which he probably hadn't, because even though his feet and chest were bare, he was still wearing jeans—and his typical snarky smile on his face, and suddenly, Lu was tired of suppressing his reaction to everything, tired of holding back.

He stepped forward and, catching Gabe's face, pulled him into a deep kiss. Gabe's olive-green eyes slid shut almost immediately and his lips parted when Lu's tongue traced the seam between them. When Gabe moaned softly, he suddenly felt the five-inch difference between his six-foot-one and Gabe's five-foot-eight. He pushed Gabe back and crossed the threshold into his house before kicking the door shut.

Somehow, Gabe knew what was happening without having to be told; he reached for the collar of Lu's shirt and started in on the buttons while Lu's fingers skimmed the heated flesh just above the waistband of Gabe's jeans. He tried not to groan at the familiar taste of Gabe's mouth, but _God_ , everything about him seemed so right. His fingers tangled into the silky strands of hair tucked behind Gabe's ears until the smaller man finally pushed his dress shirt off and seized the hem of the T-shirt beneath it to pull that off, too.

Once his shirts were off—and he hoped Gabe couldn't feel how fast his heart was racing, even though he knew he probably could—he pulled Gabe tighter to him and started walking them towards Gabe's bedroom, kicking off his shoes as he went. Gabe started biting at his lips and slid his tongue past Lu's and into his mouth. Suddenly fighting for dominance, a fight Lu would never allow himself to lose, he pushed Gabe against the nearest wall and pressed his body hard against Gabe's, pushing his thigh between his friend's. Gabe inhaled sharply, rocking against Lu's thigh, and ran his fingers through Lu's hair. _Come on, you can do better than that_ , Gabe's actions seemed to tease.

Lu unzipped Gabe's jeans, and Gabe shivered as the pressure was finally relieved. His hands flew to the fly of Lu's pants and he started pushing them down, moving his leg to maneuver his jeans down. Then Lu's mouth moved to the side of Gabe's neck, allowing the smaller man to gasp as he bit down. At the same time, he pulled Gabe away from the wall and resumed pushing him back towards the bedroom, both of them sliding the rest of the way out of their jeans as they went. As Lu finally backed him toward the bed, Gabe reached into Lu's boxers and wrapped his fingers around Lu's erection. Lu hissed softly and yanked Gabe's underwear off, then ran his hand over Gabe's cock. When he groaned and twisted into the touch, Lu had to fight the urge to fuck him just like that. Gabe sensed it, though, and he pulled open the drawer to his nightstand and tossed a bottle of lubricant at Lu.

Fingers trembling, Lu poured a generous amount of lube into his hand and, without preamble, pushed two fingers into Gabe. "Jesus Christ!" Gabe gasped, face flushing. He bit his lip and his head tipped back when Lu scissored his fingers, spreading him. "Oh, God," he groaned through gritted teeth, and pushed onto Lu's hand.

Something strange came over Lucifer as he leaned over Gabe, adding a third finger and watching him shake. "You're gonna feel so good on my cock, Gabe," he breathed. "I'm gonna ride you so hard. I'm gonna make you come so hard—"

Gabe pulled him down by his hair, tugging a little harder than necessary, but he knew Lu liked the pain. "Jesus, just fuck me already!" he growled.

Lu didn't need to be told twice. He pulled his fingers out of Gabe's opening and Gabe groaned at the sudden emptiness, but a moment later, he felt Lu's cock against his entrance and then suddenly he was inside him and—

"Oh, God _damn_ … God, fuck me!" Gabe couldn't keep the words from spilling out of his mouth. He wrapped his limbs around Lu's body and shuddered every time he thrust into him. "Fuck, harder!"

"Gabe… fuck, _Gabe_ … oh, _fuck_ , you feel so hot…"

Gabe whimpered in pleasure, clenching down on Lu and enjoying the way he groaned. Lu was going out of his mind with pleasure, gasping with every beat and silently marveling that he was right: Gabe felt _great_. He'd fucked his share of men and women, but none of them came close to this. "Oh, fuck, Gabe, you're so fucking tight… so fucking good… so good…" He gritted his teeth and started pumping Gabe in time to his thrusting.

"Fuck!" Gabe groaned, digging his fingers into the sheets beneath him. "Just like that…" Then Lu changed his angle, and at the next thrust, he hit his prostate and Gabe's whole body jolted. "Fuck! Right there, just like that!"

Lu grazed across it again and it was rapidly becoming too much—his hand and his cock on him, in him, was driving him right to the edge. With the next thrust, Gabe knew he was about to come, and he gasped out, "Oh, fuck, Lucifer! I'm gonna… _oh, God_ , gonna, gonna come…" His back arched, his eyes flickered just before they slid shut, and then he fell, the first waves of his orgasm crashing over him. "Oh, Lucifer," he breathed, looking and sounding completely wrecked, and it was all Lu could take. With a strangled groan of Gabe's name, he came hard, going blind and mindless from pleasure, and he fell against him.

All too soon, Lu's hundred-mile-an-hour head regained control and he slid himself out of Gabe. Gabe hissed faintly at the loss but recovered after a moment.

"You staying over tonight?" he asked softly.

"Depends. You working early tomorrow?"

"Not until three."

"Then yeah, I'm staying." Lu rolled onto his back next to Gabe, pulled the covers over himself, and flung an arm over his eyes. "If you wake me up before nine, I will kill you."

Gabe yawned and snuggled under the covers as well and leaning into Lu's side. "You couldn't kill me if you tried."

Lu wrapped his free arm around Gabe's shoulders, smiling in spite of himself. Gabe was right, of course. Even if they wanted to, they couldn't hurt each other.

* * *

_"Lucifer Pellegrino and Gabriel Speight are in an open relationship."_


	16. Brand New Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a forewarning: I hate this chapter.

Mikey woke the morning after his twenty-eighth birthday with his heart racing for about ten seconds. _Where the Hell…?_

Then he remembered. He _was_ a creature of habit, after all, so waking up in a bed that wasn't his own was highly unusual. But that it had taken him so long to recognize Rachel Wesson's bedroom made him feel a bit guilty because he'd been here a few times. He'd just never stayed the night before.

He rubbed his eyes and registered—with another few hard pounds of his heart—that she wasn't next to him before he took a deep breath and calmed himself, telling himself that she was probably in the shower or something. He reached for his glasses and pulled the blanket off.

The smell of pancakes attracted his attention the moment he opened the bedroom door and he followed it to the kitchen, where he found her in front of the stove, wearing his shirt. He couldn't help but smile as he crossed the room silently and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She jumped before realizing who it was and smiled herself before turning in his arms and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Hey. Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I slept fine." He brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

She shrugged, wrapping her arms around his neck. "So? I wanted to."

"It's not my birthday anymore."

She smiled. "Doesn't have to be."

He kissed her again, a longer one this time, and then pulled back. "Coffee?"

"Coffee maker's over there." She pointed to the counter a few feet away. "Coffee's on the shelf above it."

He gave her one last kiss and then busied himself with the coffee. "Hey, how's your brother doing?" he asked, partly for the sake of making conversation but mostly because he had seen the way Castiel still flinched whenever his name was brought up. He wondered if Dean had mentioned anything about the one time he had hung out with Castiel and Sam.

"Oh." Rachel's previously light tone lost its cheeriness. "I haven't talked to him a lot lately but Anna says he's been drinking. I know he's upset, but I don't know why. I'm hoping he'll talk to me on his own. I don't like pushing him, you know? But he's not doing all bad, I guess. He's been hanging out with Sam Smith. That's been good, at least. Like he's not completely cutting himself off from everyone."

Mikey nodded. "Yeah, that's good."

"It'd be really nice if he started spending a little more time around Cas, too. Maybe Ray. Hell, even Gabe… would be a good influence." He got the feeling she had been close to saying "Gabe and Lu" before remembering he didn't like Lu and must have corrected herself before she said it. He also got the feeling that Castiel spending more time with Dean would only hurt his newly-official relationship with Taz. There was no need for his brother to hang out with the guy over whom he'd pretty much been a wreck for more than two months, especially when it seemed like he was finally starting to move on.

He didn't say so to her, though. Castiel hadn't told him not to mention it to anyone, but it somehow felt like it would be a betrayal to tell Rachel that his brother had a crush on her brother. Instead, he said, "Yeah, I'll suggest it to Gabe. He's always looking for new victims." He grinned and she laughed, remembering Gabe Speight's antics in high school. Not for nothing was he voted their class's clown, even after the weird personality shift about halfway through their junior year.

"Awesome. Hey, while we're on the subject of our brothers, how's Cas been doing?"

"Oh, he just started dating Taz Lords a few weeks ago, so he's doing pretty well, and lately, he's been talking about getting a dog. I don't think he'll actually go through with it, though," he added with a small laugh.

"Why not?"

"Cas doesn't do things like that. Get pets or… well, really _anything_ without planning it out weeks in advance. I mean, he's basically been dating Taz for the last two and a half months but they just made it official a few weeks ago. It's been a little ridiculous, actually."

When Rachel nodded in assent, he turned and poured two cups of coffee and handed her one. She smiled gratefully and somehow managed to flip over the pancakes and take a sip of coffee at the same time. He pulled two plates and two sets of knives and forks out of the cupboard and drawers and set the table for breakfast.

* * *

It was later than he expected before he arrived back at home, but if he was concerned about Castiel worrying over him, he shouldn't have been. His brother wasn't home yet, either—probably at Taz's apartment, Mikey reasoned—and he could have taken a little extra time with Rachel if he'd wanted. But he hadn't been able to, not if he planned on reading through the three stacks of papers he'd promised to have back to his students by Monday. Although his heart wasn't truly in it, he sat at his desk, green pen in hand, and started reading.

It felt like days later but it was only two hours before he heard a key turning the front door lock and then Castiel's voice called out, "Hey, Mikey! I got dinner!"

"If you picked up McDonald's again, I swear to God—" he started, but his brother was already sailing through the door.

"Nope, Culver's," he said proudly, setting what looked like a Concrete Mixer on the desk in front of Mikey.

"Excellent," he said, once he'd confirmed that the frozen custard concoction was indeed a Concrete Mixer. "So where were you all day? With Taz?"

"Yeah, and? I know for a fact that _you_ weren't home last night." Castiel perched himself on the edge of Mikey's desk and sucked on whatever soda he'd gotten for himself.

"How do you know that?"

"Gabe tried to swing by last night but no one was here."

"I thought he was working last night."

"Nah, he swapped shifts with someone. He texted me, asking me where you were—like he knew _I_ wouldn't be home—and, surprise, surprise, I had no idea."

"I was with my girlfriend," Mikey said evasively. He wondered just how Castiel would react upon finding out that she was the sister of the guy he'd liked for ages, but had a feeling it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Anyone I know?"

"Yes," he said, and then he almost smacked himself. He should have said no, although he realized a moment later that he'd find out eventually. Castiel might as well find out now.

"Who is she?"

Mikey braced himself. "Rachel Wesson."

He expected a stunned look, a soft "oh" of disappointment. It wasn't what happened though.

The drink slipped from Castiel's hand and spilled across the floor, but Mikey couldn't bring himself to care. His face completely void of expression, Castiel slid off the edge of Mikey's desk and, before Mikey could stop him, he bolted for the front door.

"Cas! Cas, come on," he pleaded, getting up and following him to the front door, but Castiel was already halfway to his car. While Mikey hovered, trying to decide between leaving his brother to get his keys and chase after him in his own car, and simply running after him and trying to catch him before he took off, Castiel climbed into the front seat and pulled away from the curb.

About a half hour later, he got a text message from him reading _Sorry I took off. I went to Taz's. I'll be okay. I'm happy for you._

Mikey tried not to feel guilty.

* * *

_"Michael Novak and Rachel Wesson are in a relationship."_


	17. Mr. Brightside

Castiel rolled out of bed—his own bed for once, which was a change—and stretched. He fumbled for his glasses before locating them and stumbling down to the kitchen.

Rubbing his eyes, he started, "Mikey, do we have any more—" But he stopped short. Mikey wasn't in the kitchen. Not this morning.

 _Oh, yeah._ He was at Rachel's apartment. Castiel still wasn't used to his brother crashing there over the weekends, even though it had been over a month since they'd started dating. "Blah. Fuck," he muttered to no one in particular. Sighing, he started rummaging through the cupboards, looking for the cereal he'd originally planned to ask Mikey about, but didn't find it. It figured. Gabe had a tendency to eat their cereal right out of the box when he didn't have candy on him.

Speaking of whom…

About a minute after Castiel found the only remaining box of cereal, his phone buzzed, announcing a text message from Gabe. _You coming out for Lu's birthday tonight?_

Oh, fuck. He'd completely forgotten. How was it December already? He sent a quick text back to Gabe. _Yeah. Mind if I bring Sam along?_ He figured it was a good way to give Sam his chance to get to know Gabe a little better without putting too much pressure on him.

_Sam Smith?_

_Yeah, if that's okay._

_Yeah, sounds great!_

Castiel grinned to himself, and then text messaged Sam. _Hey, Sam, it's Lu's birthday and Gabe's buying dinner and said you could come tonight if you wanted. You want to come?_

It was a Wednesday night. Even though he had to work in a few hours, it was a short shift today and he'd be out in plenty of time for dinner. He just hoped Sam would, too. Things had gotten a bit weird with Gabe and Lu lately. There was something going on with them that he couldn't quite figure out, but it made him feel a bit like a third wheel.

Not that Gabe and Lu were dating or anything, because that prospect was _ridiculous_.

 _Wait, really?_ Sam's reply jarred Castiel from his reverie.

_Yeah, really. It's no big deal if you can't make it. I know it's short notice, sorry._

_Do I have to bring a present or something?_

_I'm not getting the guy a present, LOL._

_Sure, sounds good then! When and where is it?_

Castiel smiled with relief. _I can come pick you up at six. You don't have any objections to Outback, right?_

_Nope, not at all. See you then!_

Maybe this evening wouldn't be a total wash, then.

* * *

Gabe popped a fistful of Runts into his mouth and checked the clock again. Almost five. Almost time for him to clock out. _Finally._

"Got somewhere to be, Speight?" Dawkins asked from the next desk over.

"Yeah, buddy. Best friend's birthday today."

"Lu?"

"Yep."

Dawkins looked like he wanted to ask something, so Gabe gave him a few moments, but the puzzled look stayed on his face even though he made no move to say anything else. Finally, he said, "Something on your mind?"

He scrunched up his face for a moment and then finally asked, "You seeing someone?"

Gabe laughed. "No, why? You interested?" He batted his eyes and laughed again at Dawkins's expression.

"No, I—"

"Well, that's good, 'cause you're not really my type, anyway," Gabe joked.

Dawkins sighed at the interruption but went on. "I only asked because of the, um, hickeys. I figured it was something you'd share with the class. I mean, everyone's been wondering."

Gabe's grin hitched a little and he raised an eyebrow. "Nice to know my sex life has been the main topic of conversation around here." There was no way in Hell he was telling any of them that he was fucking Lu. Normally, he didn't care if they knew who he'd slept with—whether they were male or female—but this was different. Hell, their own friends didn't even know. It was something Lu seemed to want kept between them, which didn't really bother Gabe except that he didn't know the full extent of what was actually going on. Well, he _did_ , but he didn't really know what to call it. So he just ignored it unless Lu was right there.

Of course, he'd forgotten that Lu liked to mark him.

Dawkins at least had the decency to look sheepish at his inadvertent admission that they'd been gossiping about him. "We were just wondering 'cause, you know, things ended badly with Kali and you were pretty messed-up over her for awhile."

"I got over that months ago." Almost a year ago, actually, but just because he hadn't found someone to date for the long-term, at least someone who was interested in _him_ for the long-term, it automatically meant he wasn't actually over his ex of three years. Wonderful. "Just haven't been ready to get into something like that again."

"Well, that's good. That you're over her, I mean."

"Yeah." Gabe looked back up at the clock and, wanting both the conversation and the day to be over as soon as possible, decided it was close enough to five to skate off. "See you on Saturday." He picked up the empty box of Runts and tossed it in the trash and then hurried off to the locker room.

Kali Batra had been a freaking _goddess_ , and right from the start, she and Gabe brought out the worst in each other. It hadn't felt like it at first, but as Lu's repeated glares at her back and angry hisses of, "She's no good" persisted through one year, then a second, he slowly realized that Lu was right, but he couldn't do anything about it. She'd dug her way into his head and refused to leave—until she left him for some guy named Anthony Baldur. And yeah, he'd been a wreck for a few months, but he got over it. It helped that she'd moved out the same day they broke up and she'd moved four hours away with Baldur—at least he hadn't seen her in almost two years. He could only hope Baldur made her as miserable as she'd made him.

Once he'd changed out of his uniform and into his street clothes, he got out of the station before the Chief could see him. Yes, it was time for him to get off, but Chief had a tendency to talk to you about meaningless shit and hold you up right when you needed to be somewhere, and Gabe wanted to avoid that. As it was, it was nearly five-twenty by the time he left.

He managed to get across town to Lu's apartment by six—after stopping off at his house and grabbing his jacket; it was colder than he expected it to be—and the birthday boy in question was waiting for him on the sidewalk, the collar of his jacket turned up over his neck to keep out the cold. "Get in, loser," Gabe joked, and Lu laughed sarcastically as he slid into the passenger's seat.

Almost immediately, Lu popped open the glove compartment and pulled out one of the unopened bags of M&Ms that Gabe _always_ had in his car.

"You bastard."

Lu shrugged and tore open the bag, pouring a handful of M&Ms into his palm. "It's my birthday. Deal with it."

Gabe sighed in resignation.

"Is it just you and me tonight?"

He could hear the trepidation in Lu's voice and knew what he was thinking. _Too much like a date._ They were _not_ dating. This was _not_ a romance. "No, Cas and Sam Smith are coming, too."

"Oh."

And suddenly, Gabe remembered. Lu had a thing for Taz Lords. Taz was dating Castiel. _Great._ This was really going to be a fun night for all of them, especially because Lu didn't do passive-aggressive. He did flat-out aggressive. Now he could only hope that Sam would act as a diffuser, because otherwise, someone was going home pissed.

Lu will probably go home pissed anyway. "It'll be fine," Gabe said, trying to sound cheerful. "It's just for a few hours."

"Yeah." Lu tipped a few M&Ms into mouth.

It was quiet in the car for about thirty seconds until Gabe turned on the radio and let the music fill the silence.

When they arrived at six-fifteen, Gabe was internally relieved to see that Castiel and Sam were already there. Castiel was leaning out of a booth, grinning and waving, and Sam was sitting next to him, trying not to laugh too hard. Gabe had to grin, too.

Lu's stomach flipped over and a chill went through him that had nothing to do with the cold that had swirled in behind them. _Motherfucking Castiel Novak._ He was starting to see what Taz saw in him that wasn't in Lu. When Castiel was happy, smiling, you wanted to smile, too. When Lu was happy, it usually meant someone else was about to be very unhappy. When Castiel looked like that, he was absolutely beautiful.

Lu couldn't recall a single time he'd _ever_ looked like that.

"Sorry we were a little early," Castiel said once Lu and Gabe had sat down across from them. "Traffic was better than I expected."

"Well, it's a Wednesday," Gabe said, shrugging. "Were you waiting long?"

"Five, ten minutes. No big deal." Castiel flashed a grin at Lu, and he hoped the one he returned didn't look forced. "Happy birthday!"

"Oh, yeah, happy birthday, man," Sam added.

"Thanks. Did you guys order drinks yet?"

"Nah, we told the guy to wait until you showed—" Castiel was interrupted by the appearance of the waiter.

"Can I start you off with some drinks or appetizers?"

Castiel looked straight at Lu; he _was_ the birthday boy, after all.

"Patrón Margarita," Lu said.

"Okay, can I see your ID?"

 _You have got to be fucking_ kidding _me. There is no way I_ couldn't _pass for twenty-seven_ , Lu thought, but he rolled his eyes and dug out his license. He knew he was going to get the inevitable eyebrow-raise people always did when they looked at his ID and saw his full name, but this guy would also probably make a big deal about his birthday, too. He did _not_ want to make a scene with the wait staff singing to him.

Sure enough, the guy blinked once, twice, and then smoothly said, "Well, happy birthday. Do you want me to—"

Lu rubbed his temples and quickly interrupted him. "If it involves singing, then no."

"Trust me," Gabe added. "You don't want to see him when he's angry. He makes people cry."

Castiel was hiding his face behind his menu, and Lu just knew that he was heaving with silent giggles.

Gabe grinned as he glanced at Sam to check his reaction, and even though he managed to keep his expression from shifting, he felt the air whoosh from his lungs and that same pleasant, tingly feeling he'd first experienced five months ago wash over him at Sam's almost-laughing face, his hazel eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter. Suddenly, Gabe was really glad he'd told Castiel he could bring Sam along, even more than he was earlier.

And then he was glad that, no matter how bizarrely fucked-up their relationship was, Lu was not the type for PDA.

Once the waiter had collected their orders, Castiel asked Lu a question Gabe couldn't hear because he was busy scribbling something on a napkin. He then balled it up and put his hand beneath the table, tapping Sam's knee and trying to look innocent.

Sam blinked and realized Gabe was trying to get his attention—for what, he couldn't fathom. A moment later, he reached under the table and felt napkin being pressed into his hand. He un-crumpled it and suddenly prayed he wasn't turning red—surely Lu or Castiel would notice—but if he _was_ flushing, they didn't notice or didn't comment on it.

It was Gabe's phone number with the words _Call me_ underneath it. He glanced up at Gabe, trying to suppress an embarrassed sort of smile, and quickly nodded once.

* * *

_"Castiel Novak, Lucifer Pellegrino, Samuel Smith, and Gabriel Speight have checked into Outback Steakhouse."_


	18. These Things

Lu had just gotten sulkier as the night wore on and the margaritas kept coming. Their waiter was clever enough to take the glasses back as he drained them, so Gabe lost count of how many he actually had until the bill came. He had to resist the urge to smack Lu, because doing so could be the spark needed to set Lu off—he'd had nine margaritas, and the last two had been doubles.

By the time Gabe drove him home, he was starting to feel the effects of the last two margaritas and Gabe was relieved he'd decided to drive in the first place. He wouldn't have been able to let Lu get behind the wheel with that much alcohol in his system.

Even though Sam had his number now and it was great to see Castiel finally looking happy—he had been bummed the fuck out for awhile—Gabe was starting to regret the whole thing. It was starting to seem like it might have been better for everyone, Lu included, if they'd just ignored his birthday altogether, because there was no way he could have won this particular fight. Just the two of them would have felt too much like a date. With Castiel, even with the addition of Sam, Lu was reminded of Taz. Mikey would have been throwing glares at Lu all night and the two of them probably would have come to blows. Hanging out with Ray was pretty much out of the question, because it would have caused issues with him and Mikey.

Yeah, they probably should have ignored it altogether. Turning twenty-seven wasn't that big of a deal, anyway.

Gabe helped Lu stumble to the elevator, unlocked his door, and pushed him inside, but that was as far as he went. He was in no mood to deal with a drunk, emotionally-unstable Lucifer Pellegrino, even if he was his best friend. He'd be fine for one night.

Gabe woke up the next morning to several new text messages. He groaned, but answered them.

To Castiel's text message of, _Hey, what was up with Lu last night? I don't think I've ever seen him drink that much_ , he answered with, _I have no idea. I think it's that birthdays freak him out_ , which was a total lie because he knew exactly what was up with Lu. He just didn't want to tell Castiel that he had the hots for his boyfriend. That would have gone over _really_ well.

To Lu's _Sorry about drinking so much_ , Gabe had to scoff—Lu never apologized unless he was drunk. _Go back to sleep. You're still drunk._ Good thing Lilith knew not to expect Lu in the office today, because he had a tendency to go overboard on his birthday anyway.

The last one was from Sam. _Hey, Gabriel, it's Sam. I hope it's okay that I texted instead of called._

Gabe grinned. _Yeah, it's fine. I hope Lu didn't make you feel uncomfortable or anything. He has an abrasive personality._

He didn't really feel like staying home right now, so as he dressed, he decided he was going to the Novaks' house to check on Castiel. He probably didn't need to be checked on, but he was going to anyway. As he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, his phone buzzed again. _Nah, not really. He did seem upset, though._

_Yeah, I know. He'll be fine, though. He just gets like that sometimes._

_It sucks, though. It was his birthday and everything._

_You didn't seriously accept my number to talk about Lu, did you? LOL_

_Oh, no, I had a point! Are you gonna be busy tomorrow night? I figured we could hang out or something._

_Yeah, I'm actually free until Saturday night._ He couldn't stop grinning. _What did you have in mind?_

_I don't know, just the mall or something simple probably, unless you had a better idea._

_Nah, not really. What time?_

_Like six or something?_

_Sounds good, I'll be there._ And now he had a date with the delicious Sam Smith. Nope, the way things turned out last night was the best they could have, under the circumstances.

* * *

An obnoxious rumbling filling the air, raising the hair on the back of Dean's neck. As he turned around to locate the source of the sound, his eyes fell on a black El Camino, 1985 model from the look of it, and it was pulling right up to the garage. Dean wiped off his hands and shoved the rag into his back pocket, walking over to the driver's-side door.

The tinted window rolled down, and he was shocked to realize he recognized the driver, but couldn't quite place him. "Hey, Dean," the driver said, and Dean suddenly realized who it was—Ray Burbank, Castiel's brother's best friend.

"Hey, Ray. What's going on?"

"Well, there's some rattling going on under the hood and I can't really figure out what's going on with it—although I don't really know much about cars, so that's not surprising. Anyway, I mentioned it to Anna and she suggested I bring it to you, so…" Ray shrugged.

 _Is this the son of a bitch who's been hanging out with Anna?_ part of his brain demanded, but a larger part drowned it out with a pathetic-sounding, _Who the fuck cares?_

"Alright, pull it in and I'll take a look." He stepped back as Ray nodded and allowed him to pull forward into the garage. Once he put it in park and turned the engine off, he got out of the car and looked back at Dean.

"Pop the hood," Dean ordered, and Ray quickly complied.

"Well?" Ray asked after giving Dean a few moments to look it over.

"Can't find anything wrong yet. I think I have to go below. You said you hear rattling?"

"Yeah. Sorry I can't really be much help."

"It's okay. I get some people who come in saying, 'My car is broke, fix it!' And I'm just like, 'Well, what's wrong?' And they're like, 'I don't know, it's just broken!' And it can't be _that_ broken because they drove the damn thing in here."

Ray laughed as Dean went to the wall and pulled a dolly off. He rode it like a skateboard back over to the car and hopped off, fishing a flashlight out of his toolbox.

Dean laid flat against the dolly, flashlight in hand, and kicked his way under Ray's car. Ray stood there awkwardly, looking around as something clinked under the hood. He wished he knew what Dean was doing, but he trusted him.

"Can't find anything yet," he heard Dean call from below the car. "If you want to, you can leave it here for the day and I'll try to figure out what's going on."

"Um…"

Dean rolled back out and wiped his forehead with his wrist, unaware that he was smearing grease on his face. "Look, if I can't find anything wrong, it won't cost you anything. I just don't want you getting behind the wheel if there _is_ something wrong with it, you know? Go leave your information with Missouri at the front desk and she'll give you a loaner car."

Ray nodded then. "Should I leave my keys with you or her?"

"Me," Dean answered, holding out his hand, and Ray gave him the keys. "Just tell her you gave them to me."

"And I can come pick it up tomorrow?"

"You can pick it up at five if there's nothing wrong with it."

"I got a long shift. Paramedic," he added. "I'm not getting off until tomorrow around this time."

 _Paramedic? No wonder Anna's been hanging out with him so much. Who'd want to be with a fucking mechanic when they could have a paramedic?_ Dean tried to make himself feel jealous, but he just couldn't. Anna deserved better than him and he knew it. He just hoped she would realize it soon. "Yeah, that's fine then. Just let Missouri know."

"Sure." Ray turned and went to the main office.

So. _That_ was Dean Wesson. Ray had seen him a few times but hadn't really spoken to him—most recently at that party for Castiel back in July—but this was the first time they'd ever had a conversation.

He could see why Anna had liked him so much. He _was_ handsome, and for some reason, that streak of grease on his face made his eyes look greener, but he was broken. When they'd started dating, Dean had probably been alive, happy, strong, but he was broken now. What was worse was that it seemed like Dean knew it.

He knew he wasn't the guy Anna deserved anymore. Even stranger was that it felt like Dean might have even been aware of what was going on between Ray and Anna and simply didn't care. It was too weird, but then again, maybe Dean had someone else in _his_ life.

Although that seemed unlikely, since, according to Anna, he hardly ever left the house except for work.

 _Maybe this Missouri woman is his mystery girl_ , Ray thought as he pushed open the door to the office. And then he almost laughed.

A fifty-year-old overweight woman was sitting behind the desk with a nametag reading _Missouri_. For a moment, he contemplated Dean romantically interested in her, and he had to fight the laughter welling up inside him. Highly unlikely.

Hoping his face was straight, he approached Missouri's desk.

"Hey, there. What can I do for you?"

"Hi. I just left my car with Dean. He has my keys. I kind of need a loaner car, so…"

"Right. Okay, I need you to fill this out—" she handed him a clipboard with a form and a pen attached—"and I need your driver's license."

Ray dug his license out of his back pocket and handed it to her before sitting down on a couch a few feet away.

Once he'd filled it out (name, age, address, make, model, and year of the car, insurance carrier, problem, "How did you hear about us?", "Did you take your car to anyone else before this?"), he brought it back up and Missouri gave him back his license. "Thank you, Raphael."

"You can just call me 'Ray.'" He didn't have a problem with his first name—not like Lu did, anyway—but sometimes "Raphael" just took too much time to say.

"Okay, Ray. Here are the keys to your loaner car. It's the red '98 Grand Am out there. Drive safe, okay? We'll see you tomorrow."

Ray nodded and headed back out. As he went, he glanced back into the garage. Dean had put his car on the lift and he was now standing beneath it, still pointing his flashlight up and looking around.

 _Well, if Anna trusts him, I do, too._ He got into the loaner car, adjusted the seat, and drove away.

* * *

_"Gabriel Speight went from being in an open relationship to 'It's complicated.'"_


	19. Pour Some Sugar on Me

Some people are fortunate enough to be able to pinpoint the exact moment they fall in love with someone. Sam had always wondered before how someone could do that. He'd thought falling in love was supposed to be a gradual thing, something that took days, weeks, months—maybe even years. Some people believed in love at first sight, or that love could happen in a moment. He was not one of them.

Until the next night.

In fact, he was twice as lucky as the people who knew when they were falling in love, because not only could he tell he was falling for Gabe as it happened, he had a goddamn picture of it.

He reflected later on how fucking _stupid_ it all actually was, but he didn't care. It all just made sense in a strange kind of way.

He met up with Gabe at the Westfield Horton Plaza downtown. It was one of those big fancy malls where it's all outside and exposed to the elements, but he didn't mind a bit of cold and he had a feeling Gabe didn't, either. The mall had kind of a Southwestern motif to it, with adobe-looking walls and archways and lots of sandstone everywhere. It was fairly new, too, and all the stores were sleek and modern. It was also a bit of a maze because the five levels overlapped at weird points and, unless you took the elevator, you had to go halfway across the mall to go up or go down because _Heaven forbid_ the designers put a down escalator next to the up escalator. Still, it was fun to walk through and Sam always had a thing for people-watching, and this mall was the perfect place to do just that.

Besides, it was public, and despite his seeming nonchalance when discussing this very prospect with Dean, he actually hadn't dated many guys. In fact, there had only been two to whom he'd had a real attraction, and one had been one hundred percent heterosexual, and the other had turned out to be a raging douchebag. Besides, the last person he'd dated, a girl named Jess, had broken up with him two years ago after dating him for four years, and it had taken him awhile to get over that blow. Needless to say, he hadn't actually slept with another guy before.

 _What kind of bisexual man is twenty-four years old and still hasn't slept with another man?_ He felt like he'd missed the boat somehow. But so far, things were going better than they had the last few times—it seemed like Gabe was pretty into him, considering he'd given him his phone number, and he didn't appear to be a massive dick. Already an improvement.

Gabe grinned has he approached, a casual, easy smile and he pulled his hands out of his jacket pockets. Sam returned the smile, his heart beating a little bit faster. It was crazy that this guy, a full eight inches shorter than him, could somehow scare and thrill him at the same time.

"Hey, Sam! How ya doing?"

"I'm good. A little bit cold but overall, can't complain. You?"

Gabe shrugged. "Pretty good. So, what did you have in mind for the evening?"

"Well, I figured we could go see a movie or something. They have a few good ones playing in the next half-hour or so." Sam gestured vaguely to the fourth level, where the food court and movie theatre was. "Unless you're hungry, 'cause we can get food, too."

"Yeah, I actually am a little hungry, but a movie after sounds good." As they started heading to the escalator, a direct route to the fourth floor, Gabe asked, "So, you come to malls often?"

Sam laughed nervously, suddenly feeling embarrassed for picking such a juvenile spot. "Well, I like to people-watch. Malls are a good place to do that. Although I guess that makes me a bit creepy, huh?"

Gabe snorted with laughter. "Only if you're stalking potential murder victims."

"Oh, please," Sam joked with sudden bravado. "If I was stalking murder victims, I wouldn't do it at a mall. I'd do it in a cemetery, like a normal person."

That comment earned a riotous burst of laughter from Gabe, and Sam couldn't help smiling at the sound.

Sam ordered from Sbarro while Gabe got something from Cinnabon, which puzzled Sam, but it looked like Gabe liked sweet stuff. Their respective purchases in hand—Sam secretly relieved they'd picked two different restaurants to avoid the whole "do-I-pay-for-both-of-us-or-just-myself" dilemma he'd often had in these first-date-like situations—they took a small table next to a half-wall that allowed them to peer down at the three floors below them. They settled into a comfortable silence until Sam broke it. "So, you're a cop, right?"

Gabe tried to ignore the way the teenagers sitting behind Sam turned and stared at them. Just when he thought he was used to people giving him that "am-I-doing-something-illegal" look, all the conversations around him died and someone gave him that look. "Yeah. It's not nearly as exciting as you think—I promise."

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"What made you decide to be a cop?"

He shrugged. "A few things. I was never a great student, but the guys running Police Academy admissions didn't care. I got a degree with them. I get to burn off all the sugar I inhale. I get to carry a gun." He grinned. "The handcuffs and people with a police kink help, too."

Sam almost choked on his bite of pizza, he was laughing so hard. He had to take a drink of his water to clear his throat. "Seriously?"

Still grinning, Gabe shrugged again. "Certainly doesn't hurt. Plus, I look _damn_ hot in my uniform."

"I'll bet," Sam said, the words flying out of his mouth before he could stop them. Once he realized what he'd said, he blushed.

Gabe's grin took on a bit more of a mischievous air. "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

Sam tried not to let his mind wander too much, even though he was well-aware that Gabe was probably just trying to get a rise out of him. "So what do you do when you're not at work?"

Gabe leaned back in his seat and he cocked his head to the side, still grinning slightly, but it had definitely hitched. He was probably just a bit annoyed that his remark had barely gotten a reaction from Sam. "I watch a lot of movies and TV. My collection has nothing but the classics, of course. The _Godfather_ trilogy is probably my favorite. And the original is definitely the best. Michael Corleone is a certifiable badass." Keeping his head tilted, he glanced down at Sam's tray, which was now empty. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, if you are."

He nodded and they picked up their trays and threw away their trash. Sam looked around for the movie theatre and located it further down the pavilion. "Okay, this way," he said and started walking toward it. Gabe followed, but he stopped as they drew level with one of those photo booths that take a bunch of pictures and print them on a strip.

That damn photo booth. Sam blamed everything on that photo booth. If it hadn't been there, or been in the opposite direction of the theatre, or on a different level, it was possible his whole life could have ended so much differently, although he doubted it. What happened next was pretty much inevitable, but it could have happened much later than it did.

As it was, Gabe reached out and grabbed Sam's wrist, tugging him back. "What—?" Sam started, but stopped as Gabe grinned and pointed at that _stupid fucking_ photo booth. "No, no way," he said, but he was laughing as he said it.

"Have to. Every time I pass one of these, I _have_ to grab the nearest person and get a strip. In, Sasquatch." With a surprising strength, he managed to push Sam to the booth and lift the curtain.

Sam gave up and, still laughing, ducked inside, Gabe right behind him.

"Oh, my God," Sam murmured, chuckling as Gabe shoved five dollars into the machine and started scrolling through themes.

"Which one do you want?"

"I don't really care. I just want this over with." Honestly, Sam didn't really mind, but he had to put up a token show of resistance and apparently Gabe realized it wasn't whole-hearted anyway.

"Okay, make a face, Sasquatch!"

A cool female voice said, "Are you ready? Three, two, one." At "one," the shutter snapped and the first picture was taken.

Gabe had been grinning, his whole face lighting up the photo, making Sam feel very small and strangely amazed even though there was a smile on his face too. Gabe just looked so free, so happy, so beautiful, and Sam felt his heart slipping away from him.

"Three, two, one."

At the next "one," when the camera took the next picture, the stunned look was still on Sam's face, but somehow, Gabe hadn't really noticed. He'd chosen to really ham it up for that picture, blowing a kiss towards the lens.

Sam didn't know what came over him. He grabbed the lapels of Gabe's jacket and pulled him close, and _that_ got the smaller man's attention just before Sam crushed his mouth in the fiercest first kiss of his life. Just as Gabe's golden-green eyes were sliding shut, the voice was saying, "Three, two, one," and the camera captured their first kiss, a strangely awed look on Gabriel's face.

He reached up and tangled his fingers in Sam's hair, rising in his seat to better meet the taller man's lips, and Sam moved one hand from Gabe's jacket to the back of his neck, keeping their mouths firmly locked together. Gabe couldn't help the way his heart sped up or the small whine that rose in his throat, but Sam seemed to notice both and he grinned as the voice said one last time, "Three, two, one."

Slowly, reluctantly, he released Gabe's mouth and the voice said, "Thank you. Your photos will be ready in a few moments."

"Damn, Sam," Gabe said, laughing shakily. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Yeah, me neither," Sam answered.

Gabe pulled him back and kissed him hard, running his tongue over the seam of Sam's lips and sliding his tongue in when Sam's mouth fell open. The taller man's hand slammed the wall of the booth behind him to keep himself upright, but his other hand stroked through Gabriel's hair.

A fire started in his chest as Gabe's tongue explored his mouth. He shivered, pulling the smaller man so he was half on top of him, and the fire spread from his chest to his limbs and his groin. _Fuck_ , he had no idea a simple kiss could have him reacting like this. He felt himself reeling as lust consumed him; he managed to tear his mouth from Gabe's and started kissing a line down the side of his neck.

Gabe groaned softly, but there was still a note of mocking in his voice as he asked, "So, movie?"

"Screw the movie," Sam murmured, licking back up his neck.

He laughed. "Y'know, I don't normally tumble into bed with someone on the first date, but I'm willing to make an exception in this case." He hissed in pleasure when Sam bit down gently just on the pulse point in his neck. "Otherwise, you're _really_ gonna have to stop teasing me."

Sam didn't normally "tumble into bed" with someone on the first date, either, but right now, he was willing to shove that aside. Gabriel did something to him, something he didn't understand, but he knew he liked it. It felt like he'd been waiting for Gabe all his life. "Yeah, let's make an exception." He kissed a spot right behind Gabe's ear and dragged the heel of his hand over the crotch of Gabe's jeans.

Gabe groaned again. "Sammy, we're still in the photo booth."

"Huh?" He actually opened his eyes and realized Gabe was right. "Oh. Oops."

He laughed. "Come on, I'll drive."

They quickly ducked out of the photo booth, having enough sense to grab the twin strips on the way out (Sam split them and handed one to Gabe, shoving the other into his wallet) and located the down escalator. Sam couldn't resist standing closer to Gabe than was necessary, but the smaller man was warm and it was chilly out. He tried to keep his hands off him, though, but Gabe seemed to pick up on that thought and just wrapped his arm firmly around his waist. He seemed completely at-ease with their height difference.

The ride to Gabe's house took too long, in Sam's opinion. He wanted to feel Gabe's bare skin beneath his hands, but it seemed like he was purposely driving too slowly just to irritate him. "Come on," Gabe joked, "you can keep it in your pants for another five minutes, can't you?"

He _could_ , he just didn't _want_ to. Finally, though, Gabe was pulling into the garage and they were out of the car and he had Sam pushed up against his door, struggling to keep hold of what little control he had left while Gabe's tongue plunged into his mouth again. Then he felt Gabe's warm hands against his skin and realized he was already pulling his jacket and shirt off and Gabe was backing him into the house and he couldn't pull his lips from Gabe's even if he wanted to.

Both of their jackets, Gabe's leather and Sam's cotton, fell to the linoleum of Gabe's kitchen floor. Their shirts came off and Gabe's landed across the couch as they made their way through the living room; Sam's was flung over the flat screen TV. Gabe pressed Sam against the wall just outside the bedroom and Sam shuddered in pleasure, his head tilting back as Gabe sank to his knees, his hands expertly undoing Sam's belt and jeans.

"Oh, God," Sam breathed, unable to tear his eyes away while Gabe shoved his jeans down and, without a beat of hesitation, took his hardened cock in his mouth. "Oh, _fuck_!" Sam's eyes slid closed and he threaded his fingers through Gabriel's hair for something, anything to hold onto; he wasn't convinced his knees wouldn't turn to Jell-O from the way the smaller man was using his tongue.

While Sam panted in a nearly futile attempt to catch his breath, Gabe licked a path up the underside of Sam's cock, swirling his tongue from the base all the way up to the head. Slowly, he tongued the slit, sucking in his cheeks, and the sound that tore itself from Sam's throat could only be described as ecstatic. He knew Sam was only a few well-placed licks and a subtle scrape of teeth away from coming, so he straightened back up, Sam letting out a whimper of disappointment, and placed a light kiss on the side of his neck. "I want this to last," Gabriel whispered, wrapping one hand around Sam's shaft, starting to pump slowly, and helping him slither the rest of the way out of his jeans and underwear.

Sam started fumbling with Gabe's jeans, desperate to feel more of their skin pressed together. If he didn't get the friction he needed soon, he was going to start rutting against Gabe's leg like a horny teenage girl. Gabe smirked and pushed open the bedroom door, and the moment Sam had his fly unzipped, Gabe backed him in, still stroking Sam's cock with one hand and cupping the back of his neck with the other to lock their mouths together in a dirty, electric kiss. Sam could taste his pre-come on Gabe's breath and it just made him harder—and more desperate. He finished shoving Gabe's jeans and boxers off as he toppled back onto Gabe's silky sheets, the smaller man above him, and as he realized what happened, Gabe reached into his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube.

Gabe took a moment to press another kiss to Sam's mouth while he poured a fair amount of lubricant into his hand. It didn't occur to Sam to tell Gabe he'd never had sex with another guy before, at least not until after Gabriel had pushed one well-coated digit into him; by the time he'd adjusted to the sweet burn, he didn't care anymore.

"Oh, my God, Gabe," he breathed, spreading his legs further and fisting the sheets.

"You like that?" Gabe asked softly, sliding a second finger in and scissoring them.

Sam's whole body jolted when Gabe's fingers grazed his prostate and a wave of pleasure crashed over him. "Oh, _fuck_ yes! More, _please_ …"

It was fortunate that Gabe was able to keep his head better than most people in these situations; if he were Lu, he would have just flipped Sam over and buried himself deep in his tight body. But he wasn't Lu (and if he were, Sam would not be here), and he pushed a third finger into Sam, realizing how badly Sam needed to get off as he tried to fuck himself on his fingers, and it turned him on more.

"Please, Gabe," Sam whimpered, eyes shining and pupils blown huge from lust. "Please… Need you… inside me, _please_ …!" He reached up and pulled Gabe closer. "Gabriel, fuck me!"

Kissing him hard, he slid his fingers out of Sam's body and slicked his cock with another palmful of lube. He pulled away a moment before he pushed into him, and Sam let out a strangled cry.

Gabe didn't think he would ever forget how absolutely beautiful Sam looked as his head fell deeper into the pillow, exposing the curve of his neck, and how his whole body seemed to arch off the bed as Gabe first entered him. He pushed in to hilt and stopped, not knowing if Sam's cry had been from pain or pleasure. "Sammy?" he asked softly.

"Oh, God," Sam breathed, so softly that Gabe wasn't sure he'd actually heard it.

"Sam? You okay?" He _really_ wanted to keep going, but if Sam changed his mind, he'd stop.

"Yeah, I just…" He hissed, and suddenly Gabe understood.

"Sam, am I your first?" He told himself his heart rate didn't pick up in both fear and excitement at that prospect, but he didn't believe it.

After a moment, Sam nodded. "First guy, anyway. I'm sorry, I just…"

Gabe shook his head. "No, it's fine. You're fine. D-do you want to keep going?" This was a ridiculous time to ask that question, but his self-control was slipping; he was either going to have to fuck Sam senseless or pull out—and _soon_ —but this, his cock buried deep in Sam but unsure of what to do, was for the fucking birds.

Sam nodded. "God, yes!"

Gabe let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and slowly pulled almost all the way out, then back in quickly, making absolutely sure he hit Sam's prostate as he went. Judging by the shuddering moan, he succeeded. He repeated the motion, a little faster each time, and soon, any initial hesitation on Sam's part was completely gone as he wrapped his legs tightly around Gabe's waist and met every thrust. Gabe groaned every time their hips slammed together, wanting desperately to fuck him harder, faster—but he resolved to let Sam call the shots this time.

Suddenly, Sam let out a whine, practically a whimper, and pleaded, "Harder, Gabe, please! You're so good… I'm so fucking close… so close…"

Gabe gritted his teeth and did as Sam begged, thrusting into him harder and enjoying all the more the way Sam instinctively knew how to clench down on him. He felt so fucking good, so hot…

Just as he felt his impending orgasm crashing toward him, Sam gasped out, "I-I'm gonna… gonna come… _Oh, God, Gabriel!_ "

The feeling of being buried deep in Sam as he came pushed Gabe over the edge. Moaning Sam's name, he came, too, barely feeling Sam's nails raking over the wings on his back, but he did feel that it was undoubtedly the best orgasm of his life. Sam just felt so fucking perfect.

It was after both their afterglows subsided and they'd disentangled themselves that two distinct facts started swirling around Gabe's head. The first was that, in his rush, he'd forgotten to wear a condom—then again, maybe it wasn't that surprising, considering the fact that he and Lu never used condoms, either. The second was that he'd been Sam's first male sexual partner, and he hoped he would be the only one.

He tried to push both thoughts out of his head, especially the second. Gabriel knew by now not to expect happy endings—Kali had pretty much ruined that for him, and he knew there was no way that someone as amazing, as beautiful as Sam, would want to be with him for the long haul, especially if he knew about all the things he'd done. He fought down a sick feeling, resisting the urge to cling tighter to Sam, and closed his eyes.

He opened them again when he felt Sam's fingers tracing the wings on his back. Sam was smiling.

"What?"

"They fit you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the first time I saw you—I mean _really_ saw you, not in high school—all I could think was that you looked just like an angel."

Gabriel suddenly smiled, too.

* * *

_"Samuel Smith and Gabriel Speight are in a relationship."_


	20. Off the Rails

_"Call from… Gabriel."_

Lu stared, red-eyed and seemingly uncomprehending, at his phone buzzing on the table about two feet away from him. Even drunk, his phone was within fairly easy reach. Still, he let it ring and ring until it went to voicemail.

He'd never purposely ignored a call from Gabe in his life until now.

He drained the dregs from the bottle of Corona in his hand and got up to get another, leaving the now-empty bottle on the table with the other six "fallen friends." He was already making a fairly impressive dent in the twenty-four pack he'd bought last night—the one he cracked open now was thirteen between last night and tonight. Sitting back down, he tried to will himself to anger, some other emotion to wipe out the crushing feeling in his chest, but he just couldn't do it.

He was tired, but it wasn't a physical exhaustion that threatened to consume him. He was emotionally drained and he knew the reason behind it was stupid, which just made him more tired.

Honestly, he had suspected that Gabe had a thing for Sam, but he hadn't realized Sam was into guys or else he would have…

 _Would have what? Tried to keep them apart? He's your best friend—you should_ want _him to be happy, and he's clearly happier with Sam than he was with Kali. Or you._

That last part almost hit him like a kick in the gut. They hadn't been dating and they'd barely discussed the sexual aspect of their relationship while there was one. He, personally, had never wanted any sort of commitment from Gabe and he didn't think Gabe had, either. They had been in no way exclusive and the last thing Lu wanted was any complication from the fallout of whatever their relationship had become.

So why did it hurt so much to discover that Gabe had found someone new?

The feeling of being replaced. Of not being good enough. He'd always been a little jealous when Gabe got a new girlfriend or boyfriend, something he was always careful to deny to himself and hide from Gabe. He hadn't with Kali, because he knew immediately that she would be nothing but trouble for Gabe, but with all of his other relationships, Lu had kept his mouth shut, aware, even at fifteen, that what he was feeling didn't make sense and would probably drive Gabe away if he knew.

_"Call from… Gabriel."_

He let it ring again.

He hated admitting it, even to himself, but he was lonely. At least while Gabe was with him, he hadn't felt quite so isolated. He was his best friend, he was good looking, he was a fantastic fuck, and that had been just what Lu needed to ignore the fact that he wanted Balthazar Lords and couldn't have him. But Gabe had found someone else, found Sam, and Lu was back to square one: alone.

His phone buzzed once, indicating a new text message. It was from Gabe. _Hey, what's going on?_

Lu contemplated responding to it, but decided against it at the last minute. He was too drunk to make any kind of decision right now—although the fact that he was drunk, alone, on a Tuesday night was cause enough for Gabe's concern.

Taz had been into him—he was fairly certain of that fact. For some reason, though, he'd decided to go play savior to poor, heartbroken Castiel.

Lu wanted to scoff. It was pretty obvious that Castiel didn't appreciate who he had. He was so hung-up on trying to get over Dean that he didn't realize how much Taz was doing for him.

Buzz. _Lu?_

Ignored.

Castiel probably didn't even realize how obvious it was that he still had a thing for Dean. Lu picked up on it in high school but hadn't said anything because he wasn't sure how Mikey would have reacted to discovering his younger brother liked guys. He saw it fade, too, how it slowly receded to the back of his head after their class graduated and Castiel moved on. And then, the day of his birthday party, he saw how it came right back, sharp as a knife and so quick, he didn't even bleed, not until hours later.

Taz had seen that wound, though, and had made it his personal goal to rescue him.

Not that Lu needed rescuing or anything. He was Lucifer Damien Pellegrino, dammit, and _no one_ rescued him. He had to admit, though, that he saw it coming. Nothing about him screamed "long term commitment material!" Hell, the last time he had a girlfriend, he was nineteen and in college and she dumped him for a pre-med student. He'd never even _had_ a boyfriend, preferring one-night trysts when a male caught his eye. And sure, maybe he hadn't been forthcoming with that fact until the morning after, but surely he didn't deserve this.

No, maybe he did. This was karma, coming to kick his ass. And kick it did.

_"Call from… Gabriel."_

This motherfucker just couldn't take a hint, could he? Lu was almost drunk enough to answer the phone and cuss him out, but as drunk as he was, he knew that wouldn't faze Gabe in the slightest. No, ignoring Gabe was the best way to annoy him.

To his surprise, though, his phone buzzed again a few moments later, announcing a new voicemail. Curious in spite of himself—they seldom left each other voicemails, mostly because they never missed more than one call from the other—he dialed the number to listen to the message and tapped in his password.

_"You have… one… new voice message. First voice message."_

Gabe's voice came in loud and clear. _"Hey, jackass. Answer your fucking phone. What the hell is wrong with you? I'm worried. I talked to Al"_ —here, Gabe was referring to Alastair, who owned the apartment directly below his and was a pretty good friend— _"and he said you haven't left the apartment since Friday night and it's too quiet in there. I know you're not dead—he said he heard you walking around, but that's it. Call me back. Tell me why you're being a drama queen."_

Lu erased the message and tossed his phone back onto the table. He had half a mind to stumble down to Alastair's apartment and demand to know where the hell he got off, talking to Gabriel about him, but he couldn't be bothered to trek down the flight of stairs and then back up. He didn't have the energy to deal with this shit right now.

Numbly, he drained the bottle in his hand and gathered up a few of the other empties. For a few moments, he toyed with the idea of just throwing them out the window to hear them shatter on the pavement eight stories below, but the lawyer part of his head, the part that never shut up or shut off, started whining about the legal ramifications of broken glass in an area where children played and pet owners walked their dogs. So he set the bottles in the sink and went to get the rest, deciding he was done drinking for the evening, when his phone went off. Again.

_"Call from… Balthazar."_

Lu was rooted to the spot for a full three seconds before his brain kicked in and he almost sprinted to the phone. He hit answer and shakily raised the phone to his ear. "Hello?" Fuck, even his _voice_ was trembling. He was fucking pathetic.

"Hey, Luce, it's Taz. How are you?"

Sinking to the floor, he said softly, "I'm fine, how are you?"

"You don't sound fine," he said smoothly, ignoring the question. "Sounds like there's something wrong. Want to talk about it?"

 _Gabe probably told him to call._ He couldn't bring himself to care. Trying to summon more conviction into his voice, he said, "No, I'm fine. I just had a rough week, that's all."

"Want to tell me about it?"

Lu leaned back against the couch and sighed. He did want to talk to Taz, he really did, but even admitting to himself what was really going on took a lot of alcohol, never mind telling someone else about it. Besides, there was no point in burdening Taz with knowing that even hearing his voice sent Lu into a tailspin. He was happy with Castiel, and there was no point in making him feel guilty about it.

And Lu definitely did not need saving. His demons were just that—his own. He was going to shoulder this burden himself and get over Balthazar Lords, even if it killed him.

"No, I'm fine." Again with those two words that were somehow supposed to make everything better. _I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine_ , repeated over and over like a mantra. If he said it enough, it would happen. He would be fine.

"Alright, love." Taz didn't sound convinced, but he knew Lu well enough by now to know that there was no point in trying to make him to something he didn't want to do. "If you change your mind, you know how to reach me."

"Yeah." It felt like a weight sinking into his stomach. He didn't want to tell Taz about his problems, but he didn't want to push him away, either. Now he was afraid he had done just that.

But maybe this was better. If he didn't have to worry about seeing Taz all the time, if he could just cut him out of his life, maybe it would be better, at least until he was actually okay again.

"Alright, love. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Bye."

The line went dead in his ear. He set his phone on the table in front of him.

He was never going to be okay.

For the first time in twenty years, he started crying.

* * *

_"Lucifer Pellegrino went from being in an open relationship to single."_


	21. Famous Last Words

"The Ranger is _fine_ ," Castiel growled, but Ray just shook his head.

"Man, the thing is practically a rust bucket. And didn't you say your brakes are going? Come on," Ray wheedled. "I mean, I have to go get my car back today—you should come with me. Anna says Dean knows what he's doing—I mean, I freaking _hope_ so, if he had to replace my fuel pump."

Castiel tried not to roll his eyes. "You don't need to treat me like a kid, you know. I'll get my brake pads replaced. I'll do it myself, too. I'm not incompetent with a screwdriver."

Ray snorted with laughter. "You're a good chef, but you're _not_ a mechanic. Just take it to Dean. He'll give you a good deal, too."

Taking his Ranger to Dean was about the _last_ thing he wanted to do—he hadn't seen him in three and a half months and was finally starting to be able to focus on Taz like he deserved—but Dean couldn't be the only mechanic at Tony's, right? And yeah, he liked the idea of being able to make minor repairs to his own vehicle, but in practice, all the moving parts made him a bit skittish. Ray was right. "Alright, fine," he muttered. "I'll go."

Castiel followed Ray to the shop, AFI's _Sing the Sorrow_ cranked up as loud as his ancient CD player would go, which wasn't all that loud anymore. _Maybe I should see about getting a new radio, too._ His Ranger would be in the shop longer, but if it meant he got to blast his music until his eardrums burst, it might just be worth it.

He stayed in his truck until Ray came back out of the main office of the shop, cheerfully twirling his keys. He went to Castiel's window and rapped on it until Castiel finally opened the door.

"Did you talk to Dean yet?" Ray asked.

Castiel took a quick look toward the garage and saw—trying to convince himself that his heart didn't skip a beat—that Dean seemed to be the only mechanic there. "Um, no, not yet."

"What are you waiting for? The Apocalypse?" To punctuate his question, he clicked the lock button on his key fob and the El Camino's horn sounded.

Castiel bit his lip, glanced one more time into the garage, and then slid out of the driver's seat and onto the asphalt. He honestly didn't know how Dean would react to seeing him—the last time they'd interacted, he'd left things rather chilly. Speaking of chilly…

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and zipped it all the way up. Christmas was coming, and even though it didn't get _too_ cold around here, it was cold enough to make him exhale into his hands to warm them. He wondered how Dean stayed warm in just a pair of coveralls, and as he approached, he saw that the top half was off, the sleeves tied around his waist and just over his dirty white T-shirt. He tried not to focus on how Dean's arms looked in a T-shirt, strong and safe, and reminded himself that Dean was dating Anna—and more importantly, that _he_ was dating Taz.

Dean didn't seem to notice his approach. Castiel cleared his throat and, when _that_ didn't cause him to look, he wondered if Dean was purposely ignoring him. Finally, Castiel gave up and said, "Hello, Dean."

Judging by the way Dean dropped his wrench and nearly jumped out of his skin, he genuinely hadn't realized Castiel was there. He bent over to pick up the fallen wrench, rubbing his chest over his heart and laughing embarrassedly. "Hey, Cas. Didn't hear you coming, sorry. How're you doing?"

"I'm fine. You?"

He nodded. "I'm okay. W-what are you doing here?"

Castiel thought he saw something that looked like hope flicker for just a moment behind Dean's gaze, but it was gone before he could really look, so he decided he must have imagined it. He gestured toward his Ranger. "Needs new brakes. And a new sound system, I guess. My speakers blew out about a year ago and I never got them fixed."

"Brakes should be easy—I can get them done in about an hour. As for the sound system… well, how much are you looking to spend on it?"

"About five hundred dollars, I guess."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "I can probably get you something pretty good for that price, parts and service included. Come here."

Castiel followed him to a computer set up in the furthest corner of the garage and started clicking around. After a few moments, he motioned for Castiel to come closer and look at the screen. "Does that look like what you're looking for?"

Castiel nodded, grinning at the screen. "Pretty much exactly."

"And it's got a line in for your iPod or whatever. I can place the order now and have it shipped to the garage, and once it comes in, I can give you a call. No point in keeping your truck here for two weeks when I can't do anything with it, you know?"

Castiel nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

"Alright. Why don't you pull your truck up and I'll get started on your brakes in a few minutes? Once I'm done with this one," he added, motioning toward the car he'd just been working on.

Dean was smiling, and it was infectious. Hoping he only _thought_ his face was turning red, he quickly walked out of the garage and to his truck. Five minutes later, he was in Ray's car, heading home to await the call that his brakes were finished.

He had to admit that he was looking toward to going back and seeing Dean again.

* * *

It wasn't his night to work, but he came in anyway and went straight to the back. Hardly anyone saw him come in, either—Hell, Mary didn't even realize he was there until almost an hour after he arrived, and only because she came into the back to find two bottles of Absolut.

"Oh, Taz, when did you get here?" Mary asked, once her heart rate returned to normal. She smiled. "I wasn't expecting you here tonight."

"It's alright. I just felt like coming in."

"No Cas tonight?"

Taz shook his head. "No Cas. I believe he's working tonight."

"Oh." Mary glanced at the bottles in her hands and back up at Taz. "Just so you're aware, Lu Pellegrino is here. And he doesn't look happy."

At the sound of Lu's name, Taz focused all of his attention on her. "He's here? Right now?"

"Yes. He arrived a half an hour ago or so. He's already been here twice this week—just on days that you didn't work. Is something wrong?" She purposely didn't mention that, for the longest time before Taz and Castiel had started dating, she thought there was something going on between Lu and Taz. It surprised her when he started dating Castiel, but she kept her opinions to herself because she was used to Taz's relationships.

"I'm not sure. He was upset about something last week, but I haven't spoken to him since then." His brows knitted together. "Since he's here, I might as well find out how he is." This, he said more to himself than Mary, and he pulled a bottle of Gentleman Jack's off the shelf and brought it out with him.

Lu had set up camp at the far end of the bar. Chuck was pouring him another drink, a Four Horsemen from the look of it. He'd barely set the last bottle down before Lu knocked back the shot.

Taz went behind the bar and motioned to Chuck, which Lu was fortunately too drunk by now to notice. Chuck saw, though, and went to Taz. "Yeah?"

"I'll take over for him. I need to talk to him anyway."

Chuck didn't look happy about that, but he knew better than to argue with his boss, so he nodded and went further down to where a couple looked ready for a refill. Taz slunk over to where Lu was sitting, head in his hands. "What can I get for you, love?"

Lu's head snapped right up. "You're not working tonight," he said, slurring only slightly.

"I came in anyway. I haven't been spending as much time here as I should be. So, want to tell me why you're here at six on a Wednesday night?"

Lu's normally bright blue eyes looked tired; everything about his appearance seemed washed-out. He knew he looked bad, but apart from getting more sleep—something that seemed to be an impossibility—he couldn't think of anything else he could do. "I'm just sick of this. Everyone's getting on with their lives, and I've been left behind. Fuck, you heard Gabe's dating someone now?" He scoffed and then tapped the rim of his shot glass. "I'll take another one of these. Four Horsemen."

Taz set the bottle of Gentleman Jack's under the counter and pulled out the Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, Johnnie Walker, and Jameson, and started pouring the shot, waiting for Lu to go on. He had a feeling he wasn't finished.

"So _Michael_ finally has a girlfriend, and Cas is dating you, and Gabe is dating Sam Smith, and I'm pretty sure even Ray is involved with someone. And right now, it seems like…" He seemed to hesitate. "Like no one's ever really gonna care about me. Fuck, Gabe doesn't need me anywhere nearly as much as I need him." He knocked back the shot.

 _Oh._ Gabe's call to him last week expressing concern over Lu's mental state coincided pretty much perfectly with when he'd found out about Gabe's new relationship. The pieces clicked into place for Taz, and he tried not to feel disappointed.

Lu was in love with Gabe. That much was obvious. He'd been hoping, guiltily, that Lu had felt whatever it was between them, but clearly, what he was feeling was all on his side. He knew he had no reason to hope for that—he was, as Lu had just pointed out, dating Castiel, who was a terrific guy—but he was a selfish person. He was jealous that Gabriel had this much sway over Lu's mood, and irritated. "Look, Luce. How long have you been friends with him?"

Lu shrugged. "Twenty-one, twenty-two years. Somethin' like that."

"You don't spend that long with someone as your friend without becoming very attached. I'm sure he cares about you very much."

"I don't doubt that. But he's always been able to be friends with anyone. Most people I encounter tend not to like me."

 _I like you_ , Taz wanted to say, but he held himself back. "Have you talked to him since last week?"

"No."

"You should. Something like this shouldn't ruin your friendship."

Lu stared at the surface of the bar like it held the secrets of the universe and for a moment, Taz could see, clearly, how lonely he felt. He'd known long before this, but it drove home how masochistic he really was. That sadness was what first drew him to Castiel—the need to comfort and heal someone, the desire to be everything someone needed. It was what now was causing him to contemplate reaching across the bar and pressing his lips to Lu's. His head was spinning.

"Yeah, you're right," Lu said suddenly, hoarsely. "Thanks." He slid out of his seat and started walking toward the door, but Taz suddenly dashed from behind the bar.

"You're not driving."

"What—?"

"You're too drunk. I'll…" He was about to volunteer to take him home himself, until he realized that with Lu drunk and vulnerable, he was too much of a temptation. He couldn't hurt Castiel like that. "I'll have Mary drive you home. Okay?"

Lu was too tired and too drunk to argue.

* * *

_"Balthazar Lords went from being in a relationship to 'It's complicated.'"_


	22. The Sharpest Lives

Still unsure as to how he'd made it Thursday night sober, Lu went straight to Gabe's house after work on Friday to finally talk to him. Taz was right—he had to be honest with Gabe. After all, they'd been friends for too long to just throw everything away overnight.

He parked behind another car parked in front of Gabe's house and went to the front door. There, he hesitated, wondering how he was supposed to start once Gabe actually answered and let him in. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't good at dealing with apologies.

 _Wait a second._ He spun around. _Whose car is that?_ Fuck, how had he not noticed that? Well, he had, but it just hadn't registered that Gabe had someone else over.

Sam. It was probably Sam. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. He backpedaled, starting to turn around and head right back to his car, when the door opened behind him. He half-turned toward the door and froze.

"See you tomorrow, Sam," Gabe said just before he tugged Sam down to his height and kissed him. Then, suddenly, he noticed who was standing in his yard, halfway down the walkway. "Lu! What are you doing here?" He didn't sound upset, which was a step in the right direction to Lu.

Sam looked a bit uncomfortable, though, so he waved good-bye to Gabe and went right to his car.

"I, uh, I came to talk to you." He nervously clenched and unclenched his left fist before rubbing the back of his head. "If that's okay. I mean, I know I've kinda been an asshole but—"

"Nah, it's fine." Gabe was silhouetted against the light from in the house so Lu couldn't really see his face, but his voice sounded almost as nervous as Lu felt. "Y-you wanna come in?" Gabe added, opening the door a bit further.

"Yeah." Lu waited until Sam's car roared off down the street before walking back up to his friend.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Lu sighed. "Look, I-I'm sorry."

Gabe didn't say anything. Lu apologizing was a rare thing, and he sensed that he wasn't finished talking. This was an important moment, so he waited for him to continue.

"I know I've been… well, a dick for the last week or two. And I'm sorry. I just… Well, fuck. For the last twenty-one years, it's been you and me, you know? We've always had each other. You're probably about the most important person in my life." As he said it, he realized it was true. It also probably explained the recently-ended sexual aspect of their relationship. Maybe it had been a mistake, but he knew he didn't regret it. "So when you and Sam…"

Gabe laughed incredulously. "He's not replacing you, Lu. It's adorable you think that, but no."

Lu shot him a quick glare. "Shut up."

"I'm sorry." Gabe was still grinning. "Continue."

Lu rolled his eyes but went on. "Look, I know this never really came up before, but I… I think I'm afraid that you're just gonna leave me."

"Which explains why you flipped out when I started dating Kali, but you never said anything about anyone else."

"Because I didn't want to tell you. But I was right about her, wasn't I?"

Gabe had to give him that one. "Yeah, you were. And I just thought you were just being paranoid. So why are you telling me now?"

 _Because Taz is right._ "Because you're happier already with Sam than you were with anyone else you've been with. Even me," he added softly. "Don't get me wrong—I want you to be happy. But it made me think that, even if you're the most important person in my life, I might not be the same to you. And that thought, it stung."

"Lu."

"Yeah?"

"How much of this is legitimately about me, and how much of this is about Balthazar Lords?"

"Not as much is about him as you'd think."

"But some of it is."

"Yes."

"He's dating Cas."

As if he didn't freaking _know_ that already? Anger and frustration bubbled up inside Lu. "I know, Gabe! You think I didn't realize this four months ago when it actually freaking _happened_? But…" But Gabe didn't know how often Lu caught Taz just looking at him intently, like he was trying to dissect him. He didn't know how, sometimes, it seemed like Taz wished he was single. He couldn't possibly know how soft his voice got when he was trying to talk to a drunken Lu, trying to keep his hands to himself. "Sometimes it seems like he doesn't want to be with him."

"You think he wants to be with you?"

It sounded implausible when Gabe said it like that, even though Lu was sure of it when he was looking at the situation by himself. "Yes."

Gabe sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. Even though he wanted Lu to be happy, he had a soft spot in his heart for Castiel and he, for reasons he couldn't quite fathom, seemed to need Taz. He wasn't quite sure he could fully condone Lu's happiness at the expense of Castiel's, and that was where he was stuck. "You don't need him like Cas does."

Lu gave him a disbelieving look. "Cas only needs him to deal with his bullshit hang-up about Dean Wesson."

Gabe scoffed. "Cas doesn't like Dean."

"The Hell he doesn't. He's got it bad for him. Jesus Christ, it's like I'm the only one with fucking eyes around here. Cas has liked Dean since high school, for fuck's sake! What did you think was up with the look on his face when he saw Dean again?"

"What look?"

He was used to this, used to being the only one to notice things, but just this once, he wished he wasn't the only one. "That 'I've-been-waiting-for-you-forever' look he had, followed shortly by 'Anna-you-bitch,' which was followed by 'This-fucking-sucks-so-I'm-just-gonna-try-to-forget-all-about-it.' _That_ look."

Gabe just gave him another puzzled look, so Lu sighed. "Not that it matters. Once Cas gets over Dean—and I mean legitimately gets over him, not this bullshit he's pretending at with Taz—he'll drop him and get someone else."

"And, what, you plan to be there to pick up the pieces?"

"Only if he wants be there. But ten to one, within two days, he's gonna call."

Gabe sighed. "Well, then, I hope you're right."

 _I am_ , Lu thought obnoxiously, but he had a feeling now wasn't the time for snarkiness. "Alright, well, I'm gonna head home. But I really am sorry about the way I acted, and I'm sorry if I hurt you while we were…" He sighed, the sound almost a nervous chuckle. "I don't even know what to call it."

Gabe shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You couldn't hurt me. I'm too used to you by now. Besides, do you ever remember me complaining?" He grinned.

That smile was contagious. Lu found himself grinning back. "No, you never did, did you? And, actually, if I recall correctly, you were the one who instigated the whole thing."

"Hell, yeah, I was. But, hey, you don't have to leave if you don't want to. We haven't really hung out in a few weeks. Even though I've spent most of it in a sex frenzy, I really _have_ missed you."

As Lu outright laughed at Gabe's comment, he realized that he'd really missed him, too.

* * *

Dean wiped his palms anxiously on his shirt. He figured his excuse for inviting Castiel over was flimsy at best— _Hey, Cas, I think I found a different sound system you'd like better. I know it's after hours, but you can come over to my place and I'll show you_ —but, inexplicably, he'd accepted. And, yeah, he really did have a different system to show him, but he was hoping they could spend some actual time together.

Maybe if he spent enough time with him, he'd get over him and realize he really only needed him as a friend. Or maybe he was just making up more pathetic excuses.

He'd already buzzed Castiel into the building. He was just waiting for the knock on his door, relieved that Anna had gone out again. If she could have seen him, she would have been genuinely suspicious about his motives. Not that he would have blamed her.

_Knock, knock._

Dean's heart started racing and it felt like he was moving through a waist-high pool of quicksand as he went to answer the door. He let out a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves, and opened the door.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel smiled, his beautiful blue eyes lighting up his whole face, and Dean had to remind himself very loudly in his head that they were both dating other people.

"Hey, Cas. How're you?"

"I'm good. And you?"

"Pretty good. Um, I guess you should come in." He took a step back to allow Castiel entrance.

Still smiling, he walked past Dean and looked around. "Very nice apartment. Is Anna home?"

He tried not to feel a bit let-down. "No, she's out with someone right now. Ray Burbank, I think."

Castiel furrowed his brows for a moment, but the expression resolved itself into a decidedly neutral one. "That's okay. I haven't seen her in awhile, that's the only reason I asked."

"You don't have a problem being alone with me, do you?" Dean half-joked.

Castiel shook his head seriously. "Not at all."

"Heh. Good. Um, you hungry?"

"I could eat."

"I could… make grilled cheese. Anna says it's pretty good." He hated to keep bringing her up, but he couldn't help it.

To his surprise, Castiel smiled. "I love grilled cheese."

"Cool. Um, yeah, I'll get on that. The, uh, the TV's in there." He pointed through an archway to a room with a couch. "You can put on a movie or something if you want."

"Okay." He practically glided into the living room, and Dean took a deep breath to keep himself from melting.

He was just sliding two sandwiches onto a set of plates when he heard the unmistakable sound of _Beetlejuice_ starting, and he had to hold back a laugh. Part of him was amused at his choice, and part of him was impressed. "Good choice," he said once he'd brought out their sandwiches and handed a plate to him. "I haven't seen this one in forever."

Castiel looked a bit embarrassed, but the pink on his cheeks just made Dean want to hug him. "I don't watch movies very often, so my preferred movies are usually from the eighties or early nineties."

"I'm not complaining."

"This used to be my favorite movie from when I was eight to about fifteen. Lydia's father is so clueless at first, but once he discovers there's ghosts in his home, his reaction is just, 'Eh, whatever.'" He grinned. "It's too funny."

"So I take it you're a Tim Burton fan?"

"Generally speaking, yes. I have gone and seen a few of his more recent films and they've been pretty good. The exception to that is _Nine_. It felt… incomplete, almost. The world is completely devoid of humans, and the only life forms are these dolls or whatever they are. And that's fine, except it's the end of the world and there's nothing they can do. It's just the dolls until the Earth falls into the Sun. It wasn't planned very well."

"I didn't know that—although, frankly, I haven't seen any Tim Burton movies after _Sweeney Todd_. That was pretty good, definitely not geared toward children, but he was still pretty badass. Sweeney Todd, I mean. Him and Mrs. Lovett."

Castiel smiled. "I agree."

They continued watching the movie in silence, Dean sneaking glances at the nearly-enraptured Castiel as it went on, more and more the longer they watched. They were almost finished with it when a thought, unbidden and nearly unwelcome, popped into his head. _His lips are right there. I could kiss him right now._ And, Jesus Christ, he wanted to. Those lips of his just looked so soft and utterly kissable; he wanted to run his tongue over them. When he smiled like that, he just looked so happy…

It was almost magical. He looked positively angelic.

It took him a moment to realize he'd been staring at him for almost two full minutes. He looked back to the screen just as Lydia floated into the air, dancing to tropical music in celebration for passing her tests. A moment later, the credits were rolling, and Dean couldn't believe how fast two hours had gone by.

"I should head home," Castiel said suddenly. "I have to work early tomorrow. But…" His blue-eyed gaze locked with Dean's green-eyed one, and he felt an undeniable charge of heat pass between them. "But it was nice to spend time with you. We should do it again sometime."

"Y-yeah. Well, you have my number, so just let me know when you wanna hang out."

Castiel smiled and nodded. "I will."

Dean walked him to the door and said good-bye, resisting the almost-overwhelming temptation to pull the smaller man to him and kiss him hard. As he closed the door, he had to admit to himself that this had felt more like a date than any time he'd spent with Anna recently.

And then he remembered that he hadn't shown Castiel the sound system.

He couldn't help grinning. Just another excuse to have him back over, he supposed.

* * *

_"Lucifer Pellegrino is single."_

_"Castiel Novak went from being in a relationship to 'It's complicated.'"_


	23. Carrying Over

Dean woke on January twenty-fourth to a kiss on his cheek. He kept his eyes closed and pretended for a moment that it was not Anna but Castiel and his heart swelled with happiness, but the illusion was shattered when she said, "Happy birthday, Dean."

He forced his eyes open and smiled. "Thanks, babe."

"I love you."

His throat tightened. "I love you, too." The whole moment was a lie, and he hated himself for it. It all felt like such a farce and it wasn't what he wanted for himself—or her—at all.

"You're going over to see Rachel today, right?"

"Y-yeah, I was planning on it."

"Alright, then, I'll go make breakfast. Waffles and bacon okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

Anna kissed his cheek again and hurried out of the bedroom.

Dean threw his arm over his eyes and tried not to hate himself too much.

* * *

Two hours later, he rolled up in front of Rachel's house and was surprised to see that there was no other cars there—apparently, Mikey wasn't here. That was a bit of a surprise to him.

He got out of his Impala and made his way up to the house. He took a deep breath and knocked.

The door almost flew open. "Dean!" Rachel said excitedly, throwing her arms around her brother. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Dean said, smiling and returning her hug. "Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday to you, too! Do you feel twenty-seven?"

Dean scoffed. "Not really, no. Why, do you?"

Rachel thought it over for a moment and then shook her head. "No, I guess I don't, either." She smiled and tugged him from the doorway to the couch. "So, tell me, how have you been doing? I mean, really? I mean, Hell, I haven't gotten more than a stray text from you in almost two months!"

Dean couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. Just been busy, that's all."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Something in his expression must have tipped her off, though—or maybe it was just their weird twin bond—because she tilted her head to one side and peered at him curiously. "You don't seem fine."

He looked up. "Is it that obvious?"

"Tell me what's wrong."

 _Well, here's the thing. I know you're dating Mikey Novak and I'm dating Anna but I really want to be with your boyfriend's brother who, by the way, is dating someone else. Yeah, that's not gonna go over real well._ "I, uh… Look, if I tell you, you have to promise me that you won't be upset, okay?"

Her brows knitted together a bit but she nodded. "Okay, sure. I promise."

"And you have to promise not to tell Mikey."

She nodded again. "Of course."

"Or anyone else."

"Dean, just tell me."

He sighed. "Alright, fine. Well, the first thing is… I'm not in love with Anna."

"Then break up with her. I don't see the problem."

"But I make her happy—somehow—and I don't want to hurt her."

"Dean. Don't you deserve to be happy, too? If she really cares about you, she isn't going to want to force you to be with her. You should be able to find someone you want to be with. That's kind of the whole point, isn't it?"

"Well… I already know who I'd rather be with."

"Look at that! Problem solved."

"Not really." He'd never told anyone, not even Rachel, about his latent bisexuality—it had simply never come up. He knew she wouldn't really care, but it was something he'd always kept to himself and it was a strange thing to finally say it out loud. He chickened out at the last minute, though. "They're dating someone else."

"Oh. I guess that is a problem." She appeared to think for a moment. "Who's he dating?"

He almost jumped out of his seat. "How did you—?"

"Know what you meant?" She scoffed, smiling. "Please. I'm not a total idiot. I can tell. So, who is he? Do I know him?"

"Y-yeah. Or _of_ him, anyway."

"Okay, so who is he?"

"It's, uh… It's Cas."

"Cas? As in Castiel? As in Michael's brother Castiel?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, that is adorable! Really, I mean—"

"What's _wrong_ with you? That's not adorable! It's pathetic!"

"Oh, chill out. It's not pathetic—I mean, he _is_ attractive. But look, if there's someone you'd rather be with, even if he's dating someone else, you aren't being fair to Anna. You're denying her a chance to be with someone who _is_ in love with her. Or are you just so afraid of being alone that you'll cling to her so you don't _have_ to be alone? Because then the situation looks a lot less selfless with the whole 'Anna-loves-me-so-I-should-be-with-her-because-it's-what-she-wants' thing and a lot more selfish with the whole 'Being-with-her-is-easy-so-I'll-stay-with-her-because-it's-better-than-being-alone' thing." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. "Get it? Or do I need to repeat myself?"

Dean felt like he'd been hit by a bus. Sometimes, he forgot what she was like—she normally didn't say that much at one time, but when something bothered her she felt particularly strongly about something, she could go on quite a tangent. But deep down, he knew she was right. "No, I got it. And you're right. It's not fair to her. Besides, I think she's cheating on me anyway."

A muscle in her cheek twitched. "If she is, that's unacceptable. You deserve better than that! Why on Earth would you be so concerned about her supposed happiness if she's _cheating_ on you?"

"Because if she was, I wouldn't blame her. I'm not a good boyfriend. And I think it's a fairly recent development—just over the last few months. Long before I…"

"Before you had this crush on my boyfriend's brother?"

"Yeah."

"When _did_ that happen, anyway?"

He scratched the back of his head, trying not to look embarrassed. "The, um, the first time I saw him. Our first day of junior year."

Rachel burst out laughing. "That is so cute!"

"Hey, you saw Michael our first day of high school and he was all you talked about for two years. At least I kept it to myself!"

But Rachel was too amused to be offended. "Who cares? It's cute. And I'm _still_ trying to get over the fact that you have a crush on my boyfriend's brother."

Dean sighed and leaned back. "Moving past that particular point… What's your plan if, say, Cas maybe is in the same boat I'm in—like he doesn't actually want to be with Taz? Do I ask him about it, or…?"

"Ooooh, that's a tricky one. _Yes_ , muttonhead, you're supposed to talk to people to find out important information. Especially information like that."

Dean rolled his eyes. "There's no need to be snotty," he mumbled.

She laughed and ruffled his hair. "Life is gonna suck, Dean. The important thing is that you try. There's always a chance you could get hurt, but you could also end up incredibly happy. Do you really want to spend your life wondering what could have been?"

Rachel was still right and Dean knew it. He needed to talk to Anna and Castiel, be completely honest with both of them. And if he did end up alone, if he'd completely misjudged how Castiel may have felt about him? Well, at least he wouldn't wake up in ten years and wonder if there was a chance he could have had everything. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks."

She smiled. "That's what I'm here for, little bro."

He grinned at the joke. "We both know that _I'm_ the older one."

"I think Mom and Dad only told you that because they knew it would be an ego thing. Which one of us is more mature? Which one of us just dropped a massive truth bomb? Which one of us just gave the other some heavy life advice?"

"Bitch," he said, but he was still grinning.

"Jerk."

"So, speaking of the Novaks, where's Mikey?"

"He's taking me to dinner later. He's not picking me up for hours, so I have plenty of time to kill. Did you already eat breakfast?"

"Yeah, but do you have any pie?"

She laughed. "Do you really need to ask?" Both of the Wessons loved pie. Dean's favorite was cherry and Rachel's was apple, but there was hardly a pie in existence that the two didn't like. "I got blueberry right now. That sound good?"

"Of course." His heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks—at least, since the last time he'd seen Castiel—he hugged her tightly. "Thanks for everything, Rachel."

She returned his hug but joked, "You're freaking me out—what have you done to my brother?"

"Possessed by a demon. You get the pie, I'll get the plates."

"Nothing like pie at ten in the morning."

"Pie is always relevant."

"True story."

Dean followed Rachel into the kitchen, happier than he was used to. He'd forgotten how much he loved hanging out with his sister and just regressing back to when they were thirteen and all they needed was each other. They knew each other inside and out and weren't afraid to be brutally honest when they sensed the other needed it.

Now all Dean needed to do was figure out when he was supposed to talk to Anna. And hope she would be okay.

* * *

_"Dean Wesson is enjoying some much-needed twin time with Rachel Wesson."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pie is always relevant.


	24. Midnight Romance

Anna turned the doorknob as quietly as she could, hoping that Dean was already asleep and that she wasn't about to wake him. She knew they had to talk, but she didn't want to do it right now—she just wanted him to have one last night to be happy, for him to think her heart was still his. She figured she'd lied to him long enough and it wasn't fair to either of them—or Ray, for that matter—to keep up this charade.

Dean deserved to be with someone who was going to treat him right, not someone who was going to lead him on like this.

She didn't have that luck, though. As she softly closed the door behind her, she heard the high whine of the television going in the living room and the sound of a glass being set down on the table. "Anna?" It was Dean's voice.

She let out a small sigh. "Yeah, it's me," she said. She walked into the living room and set down her purse. "I didn't think you'd still be awake."

He shrugged. "I wasn't planning on being awake, but I guess I didn't realize what time it was." He lifted his glass to his lips and Anna could smell the familiar scent of Jack Daniels.

 _Wonderful._ She did not want to have this conversation while he was drunk.

"Have fun?" he asked.

The question surprised her. She'd been with Ray, of course, and she suspected Dean knew this. It was Ray's birthday and they finally had a long, hard discussion about their relationship and what was going on with her and Dean. Ray basically gave her an ultimatum: he wasn't going to be "the other man" in her life; she either broke up with Dean or left Ray alone. And she didn't blame him in the slightest. They all deserved better than this.

She just didn't want to mention any of this to Dean right now. "Y-yeah, it was fine. But…" It was now or never, wasn't it? "We have to talk."

Dean actually turned and looked at her. "About what?"

He looked surprised, which surprised Anna. How could he not see this coming? "About us. I…" She swallowed. "I think it would be better for both of us if… if we broke up."

She expected Dean to throw something or start swearing or yell or _something_. She didn't expect him to just sit there, blinking, as if he didn't quite understand what she said. "Dean?" she asked softly in case he was in shock.

"It's Raphael Burbank, isn't it?"

Anna bit her lip and then nodded, sighing. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean set his glass down again and she waited, tensing as he stood up. He'd never hit her or said anything mean to her—despite getting drunk a little more often than she would have liked, he never showed any abusive side of himself at all—but that didn't mean it couldn't start at any time. She took a step back as he finally faced her, walked toward her.

And then he hugged her.

"Um… Dean? I'm a little confused."

"It's okay," he said finally, letting go and stepping back. "I'm not upset. I understand."

"Please believe me, I never intended to hurt you."

"You fell for someone else—I can't blame you for that. I'm happy for you. Really. Besides, I… I had a feeling you'd be happier with someone besides me anyway. I don't want to hold you back."

Numbly, she sat down where he'd previously been sitting and looked up at him. "I expected this to be difficult, you know."

Dean sighed and took a seat on the sofa. "If we're being honest, I did, too. I was planning on doing this for awhile—I could just never figure out when a good time might be."

"There never really is, is there?" She rubbed the bridge of her nose and stared at the TV screen. It was on mute, but she saw that it was _Boardwalk Empire_. Probably one of the episodes he'd recorded months ago, because it was the commercials advertized a new show set to premiere in October and it was February now. Then what he'd said previously sank in. "Just out of idle curiosity, why were you planning on breaking up with me?"

He hesitated for the briefest of moments before admitting, "Basically the same reason you had—there's someone else I'd rather be with."

"Oh." But that didn't make sense—Dean hardly left the house aside from work, except to hang out with… "Not _Sam_ , right? Because he's—"

"Dating Gabe Speight, I know. But no, not him."

"Well, I was going to say that he's a _guy_ , and you're not…" She blinked. "Are you? Bisexual, I mean."

Another beat of hesitation, and then he nodded. "Yeah. I am."

"Oh. Well, then, is it a guy or—?"

"It's Cas."

She stared at him for a few moments. "Isn't your sister dating his brother?"

He resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. "Yes."

"Wow. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Oh, not because she's dating Michael—I mean, I'm sorry that Cas is… y'know, dating that Balthazar guy."

He sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I know. Trust me, I know."

"Does he know you like him?"

"No, I don't think so. I mean, I haven't told him, so I doubt he knows."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Probably. I mean, the few times I have spent time with him, he didn't seem like he was really into Balthazar, you know? I know it doesn't mean that he's necessarily into _me_." Although he _really_ hoped he was. "But… I should be honest with him, right?"

"Yeah." Anna felt incredibly sorry for Dean all of a sudden. He'd been so understanding of the whole situation—she just wanted everything to work out for him. He did deserve that. But in the meantime, there was a more looming problem they needed to discuss. "So. What do we do about the apartment?"

"Well… if you wanted to keep it, I could probably crash at Rachel's place for a few weeks until I got one of my own. Or if you wanted to move out, I can keep up the payments."

"Both of our names are on the contract."

Dean nodded slowly. "This was a mistake, wasn't it? Moving out here. We weren't really ready for it."

She sighed. "No, we weren't. And yeah, maybe it was a mistake, but I don't regret it."

"We'll figure something out."

Anna stood. "Well, I think that, for tonight anyway, it would probably be better if I didn't spend the night."

"Okay."

She wondered if she needed to explain further, but then she remembered that he wasn't her boyfriend anymore and they didn't need to explain anything to each other now. After a moment, she went to the bedroom and started packing for the night.

Dean continued watching the television on mute, his drink forgotten on the table between the sofa and the armchair. Although it appeared that he was intent on _Boardwalk Empire_ , he actually wasn't really paying attention to the show. He was debating between calling Sam and calling Castiel, trying to figure out which of them would be more likely to _not_ be with his boyfriend on a Saturday night.

He _really_ wanted to see Castiel, to finally tell him how much he cared, to finally get this weight off his chest and let the proverbial pieces fall where they may, but he also wanted to see Sam and try to get his perspective on the whole situation, which he could do with Castiel but would be easier with Sam considering that he didn't want to fuck Sam. Maybe a night where he didn't have to tease himself with what he really wanted was just what he needed.

Then again, if his theory about Castiel not really wanting to be with Taz was correct, he'd either be less likely to be hanging out with Taz or more willing to take off if he asked.

He had basically resolved his internal debate when Anna reappeared, overnight bag in hand. She looked unsure of what to say for a few moments before settling on, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. We can talk more about the apartment then."

Dean nodded. "Alright. See you tomorrow." He waited until the door closed again behind her before picking up his phone.

* * *

It was past midnight when Ray heard the knocking at his apartment door. He rubbed his eyes and stumbled out of bed and to the door, wondering who the Hell it could be at this ungodly hour. He woke up considerably, though, when he looked through the peephole and saw Anna standing there.

He pulled the door open and stared. "W-what are you doing here?"

She half-smiled. "Dean was still awake when I got home, so we talked and… I'm all yours now."

For a moment, he just couldn't believe it. After five months of hating himself for coming between Anna and Dean, she'd finally let him go. They could actually be together.

Suddenly feeling like he'd had the best birthday ever, he pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you," he whispered.

She let out a choked laugh and when he pulled back, he saw that she was crying but smiling at the same time. He kissed her lightly, briefly, and felt her smile widen.

"So, are you gonna let me in or what?"

* * *

_"Raphael Burbank and Anna Singer are in a relationship."_


	25. Don't Fear the Reaper

_Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt._

"Damn it," he muttered darkly, fumbling for his phone which was charging on his nightstand. Who the _fuck_ could be calling him at twelve-fifteen in the morning? If it was his boyfriend, he'd have no problem with cussing him out.

But it wasn't. To his surprise, he saw that it was Dean. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas. S-sorry, did I wake you?"

"Yeah, but…" He couldn't help smiling. "I'm not mad. What's up?"

"Just, um… Look, I know this is probably a lot to lay on you right now but Anna just left and I was wondering, y'know, if you weren't with Taz or something, if you maybe wanted to come over and hang out or something." Before Castiel could answer, Dean went on. "I'm sorry, I know that's a lot to ask of you, especially when you were asleep—"

"You said Anna left? Where did she go?"

Silence. "She left me. She broke up with me. She broke up with me to be with Raphael Burbank."

 _Dean is single. Dean is_ single _._ A foolish wave of hope crashed over him. He reminded himself that Dean was just calling him as a friend, that Dean was straight, that there was no way, even if he _did_ like guys, that Dean was interested in him, that jumping all over Dean right after he got dumped was pathetic and desperate, and it brought his heart rate under control again.

Oh, and he had a boyfriend, too. That was also important.

"I'll be right over."

"You really don't have to if you don't want to, I just—"

"It's fine, Dean. Give me twenty minutes."

Dean sighed, and the speaker crackled in Castiel's ear. "Thanks, Cas. I appreciate it."

"Not a problem." He hung up and immediately reached for his glasses. Suddenly truly relieved for the first time that Mikey wasn't home, he snapped on the bedside light and rolled out of bed, hunting for a pair of pants.

Once he'd dressed, he charged to his car, cranked up the new stereo, and headed off to Dean's apartment.

* * *

He hovered outside of Dean's door. _This is stupid. He knows I'm here. He buzzed me into the building._ Still, he felt anxious, struck with indecision. He could just leave…

But that was even more stupid. He wanted to come in. He wanted to see Dean. He had no reason to just leave except that his life was just fine right now and he just had this strange feeling that this would change everything.

His brother was in love, his two best friends were with people they loved, he had a great job, and he was content with Taz. Yeah, he knew by now that he wasn't in love with him, but maybe it was better that way. Taz couldn't hurt him, couldn't break his heart with one look like way Dean could. Wasn't that better, easier?

Without conscious thought, his hand raised and knocked on Dean's door and then the door was open and he was staring straight into Dean's gorgeous emerald-green eyes.

His face cracked into a wide grin. "Hey, Cas. How are you?"

"Hello, Dean. Shouldn't _I_ be asking _you_ that?"

Dean shrugged. "Maybe." He took a step back. "You can come in if you want."

Castiel's stomach gave a loud growl, audible to both of them. He grinned sheepishly. "Do you mind if we went out? I kind of have a craving for Waffle House."

Dean smiled, too. "Sure, they have pretty good pie there. But we're taking _my_ car, not that rust-bucket of yours."

Castiel feigned offense at the joking jab. "That truck has character! What do _you_ drive, a Nissan Altima?"

Dean smirked and scoffed. "Hardly." He grabbed his keys and, twirling them around his finger, led them down the stairs to the back parking lot.

When they stopped in front of Dean's car, Castiel remembered that he _had_ seen it at some point, but just hadn't realized it was his. A '67 Chevy Impala, black as night and sexy as sin, just seemed to fit Dean's personality, just like the faded Led Zeppelin shirt he wore now. Castiel suddenly had the thought that you had to be so cool to even ride in this car, and he was nowhere near cool enough.

Dean grinned, misunderstanding Castiel's hesitation. "Nice, isn't she? Let's go—pie is waiting. And I don't want to keep the pie waiting much longer."

Castiel couldn't help his chuckle as he finally slid into the passenger's seat and they roared out of the parking lot with a low growl of the Impala's engine.

He was absolutely sure he hadn't ridden in this car before, especially because he had never been Dean's friend until a few months ago (if that), but he had a strange sense of déjà vu, of familiarity. He didn't mention it to Dean, though. Instead, he said, "So, Anna."

A strange look crossed Dean's face. "Yeah. Anna."

"She just left you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry. It must have been quite a shock."

"A little, but to be honest, I also kind of expected it. And actually, I was planning on doing the same thing. We were missing something. I mean, it did kind of sting a bit when I found out she was leaving me for someone else, and I get the impression this thing she has with Ray Burbank has been going on for awhile, but I really can't be mad at her." He paused for a moment while they idled at a stop light. "That would just make me a hypocrite."

Castiel didn't quite know what to make of this revelation, but disappointment flooded through him, followed quickly by guilt. _Stop it_ , he ordered himself. _You have no right to be upset. You have Taz. Dean doesn't like men anyway. It's not always about_ you _, Novak._ So what if Dean already had someone else? That was good. They could all move on. "Do you think you'll still be friends with her?"

"I'd like to be. She is really nice and I still like her. But just as a friend. And I'm pretty sure she feels the same."

Castiel just wanted to change the subject. After all this was over, he was going straight to Taz to remind himself of what he had. "That's good." Change of subject time. Feigning innocence, he took off his glasses and wiped off an imaginary speck from the lens. "Hey, when did you get this car?"

If Dean noticed the abrupt way Castiel segued into a different topic, he didn't mention it. "She was actually a gift from my dad. He got her when he was about my age, and he never got rid of her because he knew she was going to be a classic. He taught me and Rachel to work on her and because I had more interest in her, he gave her to me just before I went off to college. So I've had her for about nine years but she's been in my family for about thirty-five. She still runs great, too—not that I have much choice. My dad would probably kill me if I didn't take care of her." They pulled into the parking lot of the closest Waffle House and Dean cut the engine.

It was just after one in the morning when they walked through the door into Waffle House, but there were still a few people there. It was an amazing thing that the restaurants were open 24 hours, but it made sense because waffles always tasted better when you were drunk (according to Gabe) and a lot of people came by Waffle House just after all the bars closed for the night. It was pretty convenient, too, because Waffle House was cheap.

"Hey, guys," a tired-looking but still very pretty waitress called over. "Just take a seat and I'll be with y'all in a minute."

Dean picked a tiny table for two by a window and Castiel slid into the seat across from him. Even though he knew immediately what he wanted and there was no need for him to look at the menu, he examined it anyway, taking off his glasses, setting them on the table, and purposely avoiding looking at Dean. He enjoyed it too much, and he was really trying to behave himself. Dean needed his support right now, and he was being utterly selfish.

But damn, he really enjoyed looking at him. He had to admit that to himself as he chanced a quick peek up at the other man.

Dean, too, was looking down at his menu, staring intently at the pie selection before twisting around to check out the pie revolving in the little case by the register. At that moment, the waitress came over.

"Morning," she said cheerily, flashing an extra-wide smile at Dean. Castiel burned with jealousy but reminded himself _again_ that he had no right. "What can I get for you?"

"Coffee, black, and a slice of that cherry pie you have."

Castiel tried to convince himself he was okay with him smiling at the waitress like that. Dean was single now, after all, and he could flirt with whoever he wanted. He slid his glasses back on. "Coffee, two eggs over easy, and two slices of toast."

"White or wheat bread?"

"White."

"And any cream in your coffee?"

"No, thanks."

"Alright. And do you want whipped cream on your pie?" This, she addressed to Dean.

His grin widened. "Of course."

Castiel wished that mischievous grin was aimed at him, but he simply studied his menu after she went back to the grill and put in their orders. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on torturing himself like this. It was getting ridiculous.

 _This was a bad idea._ He shouldn't have come here. He should have gone to Taz's place last night. He shouldn't have come when Dean called because now it was more clear than ever that the flame he had for Dean hadn't died, and that he'd never be enough for him. It wasn't fair, that a man that good-looking was only into women. Castiel had certainly never seen him look at another guy like that, anyway. Not that he wanted to—in fact, it would probably just make him feel worse about himself.

The pie and their coffee arrived two minutes later and the waitress made a bit of a show of spraying the whipped cream on Dean's pie. Castiel pointedly ignored it, hoping it didn't show on his face. Once the waitress moved away, Dean dug in, making noises of approval that were so pornographic, they _had_ to be illegal. Castiel absently opened up sugar packets and dumped them into his coffee, stirring it to distract himself until his eggs and toast appeared.

"You okay?" Dean asked suddenly, focusing on him.

"Huh?"

"You put like eight packets of Splenda in your coffee."

 _Eight?_ Castiel counted the empty packets and realized Dean's estimate was off. There was actually eleven. "Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. Just distracted." He took a test sip of his coffee and made a face. _Way_ too much sugar.

"What's up?"

Castiel shook his head. "It's nothing."

Dean gave him a look that said he knew he was lying. "Come on, tell me. I woke you up at midnight. The least I can do is listen to your problems, right?"

"You're the one who just got dumped. Shouldn't _I_ be the one listening to _your_ problems?"

"We already covered this. I'm fine. Anna and I are still friends. Yeah, it sucks, but I'm not devastated or anything."

The waitress came by and dropped off Castiel's food, but Dean barely paid her any notice, and neither did Castiel. "Then why am I here, exactly?" he asked, failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Dean looked a little hurt at that. "Because I wanted to see you. I thought we were friends."

He felt incredibly guilty now. "I'm sorry. We _are_ friends."

"Then tell me what's on your mind."

He really wanted to, but he couldn't. Not right now, anyway. "Maybe later," he murmured, pushing his eggs onto his toast.

The next ten minutes passed by pretty quietly with neither one of them really saying anything. Castiel regretted his snappishness but he couldn't screw up what he had right now with Dean and possibly what he had with Taz by admitting how he really felt. He'd never forgive himself if Dean never looked at him the same way again. Still, when the waitress came back with the bill, he snatched it up before Dean even had a chance to look at it and went to pay for their food.

"You didn't have to do that," Dean said once they were outside.

Castiel shrugged. "It doesn't bother me."

"Thanks."

He nodded, and then decided to ask the question he'd been mulling over since they fell silent in the restaurant. "When you said you couldn't be upset with Anna because that would make you a hypocrite, what did you mean?"

Dean blinked. "It means that I like someone else. I thought that was obvious."

"She's lucky."

"Who, Anna?"

"No, I mean the other girl."

"Oh. Yeah, I think so, but I can't quite figure out how he feels about me." Dean grinned.

Everything screeched to a halt in Castiel's head. "He?"

"Yeah. Oh, something funny you may not have known about me—I like guys _and_ girls. Are we going back?" He opened the driver's side door for emphasis.

"So, what you're telling me is that when Anna broke up with you for Ray Burbank, you couldn't be mad at her because you have feelings for another guy?"

Dean nodded. "Basically, yeah. You can't leave out the part where I don't know if he likes me or not."

The whole world was swimming in Castiel's head. It wasn't quite clicking in his head—he heard the words Dean was saying but he just couldn't process it. _Dean is single. Dean likes guys. Dean likes one guy in particular. Dean likes one guy enough to not be upset when Anna dumped him for Ray._

Castiel could only stare at him for a minute, their eyes locking and a moment of heat sparking between them. _Fuck it._ He was done fighting this. Frustration and lack of sleep had given him the right amount of courage and insanity because in the space of about two seconds, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Dean's.

He expected Dean to push him back, to look embarrassed and tell him that it wasn't Castiel he wanted, to punch him, to break his heart, but none of that happened. A moment later, Dean was sliding his arms around him and deepening the kiss, one hand diving into his hair and tugging, tilting Castiel's head to meet Dean's mouth better. The way he was holding him, Castiel realized, seemed to say, _Mine. You're mine. You're mine, and I'm not letting you go._

Dean moved his hand and deftly slid Castiel's glasses off, and then Dean's tongue swept into his mouth and Castiel moaned softly, gripping the soft fabric of Dean's well-worn shirt to keep himself standing. He pressed himself closer so there was no more space between them and now Dean was groaning, tightening the arm around Castiel's waist.

Castiel could taste the cherry pie still on Dean's tongue and it had never tasted so good before. He could stay like this forever, darting one hand up to run his fingers through Dean's soft, short hair and running the pad of his thumb possessively over Dean's cheek. And then Dean pulled back a bit, just enough for him to whisper, "Scratch that. I guess he _does_ like me." And then he flashed Castiel that mischievous grin, and he couldn't help but grin back.

* * *

_"Dean Wesson went from being single to 'It's complicated.'"_


	26. Devil's Been Talkin'

Taz swaggered into his cousin's restaurant (appropriately titled, he thought, Raising Hell, which was strange for such an upscale place, but the place attracted all kinds) and bypassed the maître d' with a quick wave. They knew him here, both because of Jeremy and because of Castiel. And, as it happened, he was here to discuss the latter (and a certain other blue-eyed angel) with the former.

Taz wasn't generally the type to just disclose his feelings unbidden, but he figured that, at this point, maybe a bit of outside perspective might be better than attacking this problem blindly. After all, he hadn't been in this situation before. He didn't typically "date" someone for extended amounts of time and generally preferred the single life because he liked not having to answer to someone, but Castiel had been different and he wasn't sure why. Maybe he was reaching a point in his life where settling down was a viable option.

Of course, when he imagined himself settling down, it wasn't Castiel he saw himself with, which was why he wanted to talk to Jeremy Crowley before making a firm decision.

He pounded on the door to his cousin's office and grinned at his pissed-off-sounding, "This had better be good!" He let himself in and practically sauntered across the room before flopping into the chair across from Jeremy's desk.

"Oh, it's _you_ ," Jeremy said with mock disdain. "If I'd known _you_ were coming, I wouldn't have broken out the good Scotch."

"I wouldn't have accepted it anyway—knowing you, it would be laced with arsenic."

"Nothing nearly so dramatic—cyanide is good enough for the likes of you."

"You must take me for a fool. I know what cyanide smells like."

"Yes, but I would count on you being too drunk to notice anyway." By this time, both cousins were barely suppressing their laughter. "No, but seriously. Drink?"

Grinning, Taz leaned farther back in his seat. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you're drinking is fine."

Jeremy stood up and fixed two neat Scotches for them. "So, what brings you here? Castiel won't be coming in for a few more hours." He caught a look of Taz's face. "But I have a feeling I just answered my own question."

Taz nodded, accepting the drink from his cousin. He took a quick sip before saying, "I'm actually not quite sure where to start."

"At the beginning?" Jeremy suggested with an annoying smirk. He sat back down and took a sip of his Scotch as well.

"The problem is, I'm not sure where the beginning _is_."

"Sounds complicated. Well, if it involves dear Castiel, let's start there, yeah?"

Taz heaved a small sigh. "Alright, let's start there. So, Cas and I have been dating for about five months now."

"Impressive."

"For me? Extremely. For other thirty-three-year-olds? Not so much. And I think that's the problem. I've never dated _anyone_ for this length of time before."

"Getting ready for the white picket fence?"

Taz scoffed. "Hardly. Not that Castiel isn't the type, because he's definitely the 'settle down and get four dogs' type, but… I'm just not convinced that's what either of us really wants."

"I beg to differ. Castiel definitely wants to settle down."

"That, I don't doubt. What I _do_ doubt is that he wants to settle down with me."

"And you say this, why?"

"The circumstances under which we started dating are shaky, to say the least. You know the reason it took so long to make our relationship official is this thing he has for Dean Wesson. He was at Castiel's birthday party back in July."

Jeremy's eyes widened a bit at the mention of Dean's name. "I remember him. You said Castiel has a 'thing' for him?"

"Had, has, whatever. I'm not really sure which. Right now, it seems like he's over it. Still…"

Jeremy swirled his Scotch around in his glass. "As it happens, I got a phone call a few days ago from Robert Singer, who was also at Castiel's party. We've stayed in touch, actually. He happens to be the father of one Anna Singer, who, as of about three weeks ago, is the, er, former girlfriend of Dean Wesson. Apparently Anna Singer is now dating a Raphael Burbank."

Taz didn't quite know what to make of this information. "Ah. That's an interesting development."

Jeremy shrugged. "Just letting you know. And you said you don't want to settle down with Castiel, either?"

"Yeah. There's this… well, you know me. I'm not used to tying myself down, so if I'm interested in someone, I just go after them and damn anyone else who may be involved."

"The point being…?"

"That I'm interested in someone and I can't just go after him because I don't want to hurt Castiel."

Jeremy raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Oh, dear. Sounds terribly complicated. What about him? This other man of yours? How does he feel about you?"

"Again, not sure. For awhile, it seemed like he may have reciprocated my feelings, but based on certain events…"

"Oh, quit being so cryptic. What the hell is going on?"

Taz tossed back the rest of his Scotch. It burned going down, but it filled him with that strange warmth he'd grown to love. "It seems that Lucifer Pellegrino is in love with Gabriel Speight."

"Lucifer Pellegrino?"

"About six feet tall, strawberry blond, blue eyes, apparently hasn't made friends with Mr. Gillette."

"And _that's_ your other man?"

"I didn't say it made sense, did I?"

"Noted. Well, since you obviously came here for my advice, I'm going to give it to you. It's pretty clear to me what you need to do."

"And what's that, oh dear cousin?"

"Break up with Castiel. Tell Lucifer how you feel about him."

"But—"

"But he doesn't like you?" Jeremy shrugged and took another sip of his Scotch. "Tell him anyway. Welcome to the real world. That's what adults do. Besides, wouldn't you rather he knew so that one day farther down the line, he looks back and realizes that maybe he does like you?"

There was a sad sort of look on Taz's face. "Yeah, one day, after he gets over Gabriel Speight, eh? Just like Castiel got over Dean Wesson?" His stomach twisted. He hadn't intended for that comment to sound so bitter, but it was true. Thirty-three years of not getting emotionally invested in any one person, even when the other person was incredibly invested, and here he was, stressing out because he was finally serious about someone, and he didn't even like him. Karma was a bitch. It just figured that the moment he was willing to let his guard down, to let in someone who may just want him for more than sex—which, he admitted to himself, wasn't all bad, but what if he wanted something more now?—he got blown out of the water.

"What you fail to realize is that there are other men in the world. Women, too. You like those, too, right? Soft, curvy things?" Taz snorted briefly with laughter as Jeremy went on. "Just because Castiel Novak and Lucifer Pellegrino may just be in love with other men doesn't mean that one day, someone else isn't going to come along who just so happens to be in love with you. Besides, do you know for certain that Castiel and Lucifer are in love with these guys?"

"Castiel told me how he feels about Dean Wesson before we started dating. If he knows about Dean and Anna Singer's breakup…"

"Yes, it's quite possible he could make a move. But so? If he's not completely invested in you anyway, what difference does it make? It'll still end the same, right?"

Taz acknowledged his point. "True enough."

"And Lucifer Pellegrino?"

He had to admit that he didn't actually know how Lu felt about Gabe. "Him, I don't know for certain. It seemed like it, the way he reacted to the news of Gabriel dating someone, but he never actually said outright that he has a thing for him."

"And you're jumping to insane conclusions like that… why, exactly?"

"Because it seemed like it at the time. He came to the bar a few times that week, all on nights when I wasn't working. Like he was avoiding me."

"And it never occurred to you that maybe he was avoiding you because, I don't know, maybe being reminded that the man you have a huge crush on is dating someone else probably isn't the most pleasant thing in the world, especially when your best friend is suddenly unavailable? I mean, I'm not saying I approve of his reaction, but I _am_ saying that there's more than one logical explanation. Something I figured you, as someone who can read people extremely well, would be able to figure out right away." Jeremy leaned back. "Unless, somehow, you're only that perceptive when it comes to things that don't involve you." _As if, maybe, the idea of someone actually caring about you for more than your body is genuinely inconceivable._ He didn't say it, but they both knew what he was thinking.

Taz sighed. "I think I need another drink."

"No, what you _need_ to do is march your ass over to Castiel's house and get this mess of yours straightened out. Wait until tomorrow, though. I need his head at work, not wrapped around your fucking issues, yeah?"

Taz scoffed but nodded. "Somehow, you've made me feel both better and worse about myself."

Jeremy shrugged, grinning. "It's a gift. Enjoy it. You _did_ ask for my advice, after all."

"Actually, I don't recall expressly asking for your advice. You merely assumed I was asking. 'Implied' hardly counts."

"But you did come here for my counsel, yeah?"

Taz smiled. "Yeah. I did."

"Then you're complaining… why?"

"Because you're being an asshole."

"Get the fuck out of my office!" Jeremy roared, grinning, and the younger man jumped up. Laughing, he dodged a book that his cousin threw at him and dashed out the door.

* * *

_"Balthazar Lords went from being in a relationship to 'It's complicated.'"_


	27. Everything We Had

He'd probably waited too long to have this talk, but really, this was new territory for him. He'd never actually had a boyfriend who he wanted to leave for another guy who wanted him, too. That last part, especially, was nearly unfathomable to him.

But it was time. Castiel had put this off long enough, and he had to break up with Taz now. He'd been avoiding doing the deed for three weeks now, just long enough for Dean to go to Kansas, to where his parents had moved, but he was coming back in a few days. It had been enough time for both of them to clear their heads and realize that they had something special between them. But Dean had called the day before and asked if he'd left Taz yet.

When Castiel admitted that he hadn't, Dean had sighed. "I don't want to be the other man, Cas. That's not fair."

He was right. It _wasn't_ fair—not to Dean, not to Taz. He promised to break up with Taz the next day, which seemed to placate Dean.

But he'd never dumped someone before. He'd never been in the position to potentially wound someone this badly. It was something he was hesitant to do, even though he was vaguely aware that Taz would probably be okay pretty soon afterward.

He hovered outside of the door of Taz's apartment, trying to work up the courage to knock. The light in the hallway flickered ominously, and he steeled himself, telling himself that the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could call Dean and tell him the news. It seemed surreal that after ten years, all that stood between him and those gorgeous emerald-green eyes was this two-minute conversation.

He was just raising his hand to knock when he heard the lock catch and the doorknob twisted. He jumped back as the door swung open and Taz appeared, sliding his jacket over his shoulders. It took him only a moment to see Castiel there, and the look on his face was surprised, to say the least.

"Oh, Cas." He furrowed his brow. "Hey."

Castiel's heart was hammering too hard in his chest to register that it wasn't anywhere close to how he usually sounded. "S-sorry. I didn't realize you were on your way out."

"I was, but I was coming to see you, so…" He chuckled and shrugged. "I guess I don't need to leave, in that case. Want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Taz stepped back to let him in and Castiel crossed the threshold, willing back the memories that flooded through him suddenly. Even though it had only been five months—almost seven if you counted the time before they officially started dating—they'd had quite a few long weekends and dinners in here.

His lips almost quirked into a smile as he remembered that Taz was about as bad in the kitchen as he was good in the bedroom and had somehow managed to scorch their popcorn one night. He'd insisted on making dinner most nights, though, because he reasoned that Castiel had probably had enough of cooking all day and needed a break from it. To which Castiel quipped that he was acting bartender for the evening, something that elicited a laugh from the older man.

He and Taz had become incredibly close, becoming something like best friends who happened to only have sex with each other, and he found himself wishing that they could still be friends—minus the sex part, of course. "What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, turning to Taz.

He had leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and just looking at him. It was as if he'd sensed what was about to happen. He didn't look upset or anything—there was only a hint of resignation on his face. "Probably the same thing you wanted to talk to _me_ about."

Castiel bit his lip for a moment. How much did he know?

"I heard from Jeremy that Anna and Dean broke up. I'm sure you knew that already, though."

Castiel nodded, barely breathing.

"So, you plan to break this off with me to pursue a relationship with him, yeah?"

He tried not to flinch. It sounded like he'd been using Taz this whole time—but, then again, he had. The truth hurt, but it was the truth. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Taz half-smiled and shook his head. "No need to be, love. Let me guess, though: you already spoke to him, and it turns out that he's been harboring a secret flame for you as well."

"Yeah. I didn't know until after he and Anna broke up. He told me. I'm—"

"Castiel, if you're going to apologize again, just don't." Taz's tone was light and that half-smile was still on his face. "I'm no stranger to the crazy things the heart makes people do. You have nothing to feel sorry for."

"Still," Castiel mumbled. "But you were going to break up with me, too?"

Taz sighed. "I confess that yes, I was. It just so happens that you and I are in the same boat. Well, maybe not the same boat, but on the same ocean."

Castiel's brows knitted together in confusion. "I don't understand that reference."

Taz laughed. "Sorry. Jeremy mentioned a few days ago that I tend to be cryptic. I prefer to think of it as being poetic, but…" He shrugged. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Boats and oceans. Well, I care about someone else a little more than I'm comfortable to admit. Different boat, though, because I'm fairly certain he doesn't return my feelings."

"Oh." Castiel suddenly felt incredibly sorry for Taz. He knew that feeling all too well, and though it worked out for him, he could only hope the same would happen for Taz, too. "You should have broken up with me ages ago, then."

Taz smiled fondly and shook his head. "You needed me. I'm here to please."

Castiel's stomach twisted as he asked, "Are we still friends?" He hoped the answer would be anything but "no." He preferred "yes," but would have also accepted "eventually."

Taz tilted his head to the side. "That depends. Do you want to be?"

"Of course."

He smiled again. "Then yes, we are. I do feel as though we've grown close in the time we've known each other and it would be a shame to lose that."

Castiel smiled, too, and couldn't prevent the question that slipped out. "Do I know him?"

"Come again?"

"The… the other guy you like. Do I know him?"

One look at Taz's face was all the answer he needed, although he said, "Yes."

Unsure if he wanted to hear the answer, he asked, "Who is he?"

Taz looked a little uncomfortable suddenly. He shifted his position slightly against the wall, keeping his arms crossed. "Do you really want to know?"

"I think so."

Taz sighed. "Lu."

It took a moment for the monosyllabic response to process in Castiel's head. "Lu? Lu _Pellgrino_? _That_ Lu?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes. Why is everyone so surprised to hear that? It's not like he's unattractive or unpleasant or anything."

Castiel snorted with laughter. "That depends on who you ask."

"I'm not asking your brother, if that's what you mean."

He registered the ice in Taz's voice and quickly said, "I don't have anything against him. I actually don't mind him. I'm just saying, it's a bit strange. I've literally never heard anyone express an interest in him is all."

"That's unfortunate."

Then he remembered what Taz said earlier. "But you said he doesn't like you?"

Taz stared at the floor for a moment. "At one time, I thought he did, but I now suspect that he cares about Gabe Speight."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Gabe? I highly doubt that. Besides, Gabe is dating Sam Smith."

"A fact of which I'm well-aware, considering Lu's reaction was ignoring Gabe in favor of drinking. A fact which worried Gabriel, who called me and asked me to talk to him." Taz shrugged. "A man doesn't react that way when his best friend enters a new relationship if he's not a bit jealous."

"Lu's not the most rational type," Castiel pointed out, but as he spoke, he knew he was wrong on two counts: Lucifer was actually incredibly rational, if not in his actions then at least in his words, at least when it came to other people, and he would certainly act out if something bothered him. He had on numerous occasions.

Taz knew he was wrong, too, but he chose not to argue. "Anyway, far be it from me to come between someone and their happiness, so I believe I'm just going to sit out of that particular mess."

"But if you like him, you should tell him," Castiel said, thinking back to Dean's confession and his own reaction.

Taz could probably tell where his mind was because he shook his head, rubbing his upper arms. "Not everyone is meant to have a fairy-tale ending, Castiel. Some of us are only meant to watch while the world pairs off and gets a white picket fence."

Castiel knew that Taz had been the strength he needed to survive the last few months of uncertainty, exactly the support he didn't know he needed. And now, the moment he didn't need him anymore, it struck him as odd that he'd never noticed how vulnerable Taz was. He'd never seen him look so exposed before. "You at least deserve to be happy, you know. Everyone deserves that."

Taz half-smiled. "Who says I'm not happy? The unique thing about me is that I don't need someone else to make me happy. I'm the only person I've got for the rest of my life. If I'm not happy with that, I need to make a serious adjustment."

"I guess you're right." Castiel glanced at his shoes before looking up. "I should go, but we should hang out this weekend."

Taz smiled. "This weekend? For me? When you're about to have a hot new boyfriend coming back into town? Maybe sometime next week, when you're not all over each other."

Castiel blushed, but he knew it was true. "Maybe you're right. Tuesday then. We can catch a movie or something."

"Sounds good to me." He smiled, and it mirrored Castiel's own. That smiled followed him out of Taz's apartment and down to his car where he flipped open his phone and called Dean.

"Cas?"

"Hello, Dean." He couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. "I'm single."

"Not for long."

* * *

_"Castiel Novak is single."_


	28. The Only Hope for Me is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are basically just porn.

Castiel leaned up against the passenger's side door of the Impala, nervously swinging the keys Dean had left. During the few weeks he'd been gone, he'd entrusted the Impala to his care, something that made him incredibly paranoid. He was convinced people knew it wasn't his, even though it was really impossible to know that from just a glance. He'd been extremely careful with it—leaving it in the garage, not driving it to work, only taking it out every other day as per Dean's instructions—and the exterior (and interior) was still absolutely flawless. He'd even gotten it washed right before he came to the airport to pick up Dean.

But now, the three-week void, that strange place between dating and not dating, was nearly over. In a few moments, Castiel would finally see Dean again and he could only pray that his feelings hadn't changed. He knew it was extremely unlikely, but the thought always loomed over his head.

What if he'd met someone in Kansas?

He reminded himself that, when he'd told Dean about his and Taz's breakup three days before, Dean's reaction had been delighted. Was it really possible that in only seventy-two hours, his attitude had shifted? Possible, but implausible.

And then his brain skidded to a halt when Dean appeared through the sliding glass doors, all jeans and faded '70s metal band T-shirts and giddy smiles. Castiel felt a grin splitting his face, too, as he caught sight of Dean's.

"Hey, Cas," he said, striding toward him and shifting his duffel bag higher up on his shoulder.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, a wave of surprised happiness washing over him as Dean leaned down and gave him a quick kiss, as if it were the most natural thing in the world even though it was only their second kiss.

"I missed you," Dean murmured. He dropped his bag at their feet and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. "I hope you weren't lying to me when you said you broke up with Taz."

"I wasn't lying," Castiel confirmed. "He's got a thing for Lu anyway."

"Good." He pressed another kiss to the side of Castiel's neck and pulled back. "I'm freakin' starving—let's go get burgers."

Castiel laughed, opening up the back door to allow Dean to toss his bag on the seat, and handed him the keys. He slid into the passenger's seat as Dean got behind the wheel, and with a roar from the engine, they headed to Culver's.

* * *

Castiel would have been lying if he said he didn't know where the afternoon was going to lead them, but while they were eating, he pretended he didn't. It made it a bit easier to keep his mind on his own burger and not the way Dean licked off the ketchup smeared next to his mouth. Personally, he'd had enough with being sexually frustrated by this man during meals. Not that he wasn't incredibly happy to be here with Dean, on their first actual _date_ , but watching him was more arousing than watching porn.

He managed to keep his hormones in check even after they exited Culver's and Dean said happily, "Damn, that was good! Where to now?"

Castiel shrugged and pretended to think. "Your place?" he suggested innocently.

Dean grinned at him mischievously. "My place sounds good."

Their third kiss was more in the vein of their first one with Dean tangling his fingers through Castiel's hair, their tongues meeting in a heated kiss that sparked a passion in both of them, igniting from the pilot light that had been burning for the last ten years.

"How long?" Castiel breathed, nudging Dean to lie back on his bed after stripping off his shirt. He scraped his teeth down his neck, over his collarbone, against his chest to just above his heart where he sucked a bruise while Dean groaned.

"The moment I saw you," he gasped, running his fingers through Castiel's silky hair again. He groaned again when Castiel moved back up to nibble on his neck. "I knew you were special the moment I saw you. But—" He hissed suddenly as Castiel's lips locked on the spot just behind his ear, making Dean shiver. "But when I saw you stand up for Sam Smith at lunch, that was when I knew I was yours." He pushed Castiel up to straddle his hips, slid his shirt over his head, and cupped his face. "Castiel, I've always been yours."

"I wish I had known that ten years ago," he murmured, stroking his thumb over Dean's cheek. "You know, the reason I fell in love with you was because you were always so nice to me. To everyone. Even though you didn't know who I was. You were just so committed to dispelling the 'mean jock' thing. And you were so beautiful. I couldn't keep my eyes off you."

"'Were'?" Dean asked, grinning. "What, am I hideous now?"

"Very," Castiel joked with mock seriousness. "Absolutely repulsive. But I still can't keep my eyes off you."

Dean pulled him down for another kiss, trailing his fingers over Castiel's shoulders, down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. "Good," he murmured. "At least I have your attention, then."

"You have more than my attention," Castiel answered, grinning as Dean's hands worked open the button and zipper of his jeans and he wriggled out of them. He began pressing kisses down Dean's chest, gently scraping his teeth over his ribs before moving down further, undoing the button of Dean's jeans with his teeth. Dean groaned, suddenly a whole lot harder than he'd been a few moments before.

" _Fuck_ , Cas, where'd you learn to do that?"

Castiel grinned up at him. "I used my imagination. Want to see if I can strip you the rest of the way without using my hands?"

Dean's mouth went dry; he could only nod, his eyes widening.

Still grinning, Castiel moved back up to press another kiss to Dean's lips before returning his attention to his jeans. He caught the zipper between his cheek and slowly dragged it down, eliciting another low groan from the older man. Dean ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, whimpering as Castiel nuzzled against his hardened length through his boxers before starting to tug down his jeans and boxers, still with his teeth. Dean closed his eyes and chewed on his lower lip, trying to concentrate on not thinking about what Castiel was doing—he seriously couldn't get any harder without incurring severe bodily damage—but when he felt Castiel's warm breath on his cock, his eyes flew open just in time to see his cock sliding between Castiel's lips.

He moaned loudly, trying to keep his sanity despite the way Castiel was using his tongue, and he had to fight the nearly-uncontrollable urge to fuck into his mouth. "Oh, God, Cas," he whined when he felt his tongue trailing from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, Castiel's head bobbing as he went. As Castiel came off his cock with a faint _pop_ and a devilish smile, he shifted, positioning himself between Dean's thighs, and stuck three fingers in his mouth. Dean unconsciously licked his lips, unable to tear his eyes away.

Castiel withdrew his fingers and moved back up Dean's body to kiss him again and the older man's eyes melted shut, holding the back of Castiel's head. And then Dean felt one of Castiel's saliva-slickened fingers at his entrance and he groaned, his head tilting back as he slid the finger in.

"Are you alright?" he heard Castiel ask.

"Yeah." He whimpered as Castiel hit that spot, sending sparks of pleasure through his whole body. "Please, Cas…"

Castiel smiled and pushed another finger in, almost losing his control at the sound of Dean's pornographic moan. He sucked in a deep breath to clear his head, still trying to go slow, but he thrust his fingers a little harder than he intended back into Dean. As he dragged them back out, he spread them, causing Dean to gasp and moan louder. He fisted the sheets and rocked against Castiel's fingers, chewing on his bottom lip. Taking the hint, Castiel pushed a third finger inside. Dean keened now, pushing against his fingers harder and gasping, "Jesus, Cas, I want you…" His lips trembled for a moment. "Please… fuck me!"

He pulled his fingers out of Dean and the older man whimpered faintly at the loss. Castiel quickly shed his boxers and Dean exhaled sharply, breathing, "Drawer."

Castiel opened the nightstand drawer and located and removed a small bottle of lubricant. He squeezed a small palmful into his hand and slicked his cock, leaning back over Dean and kissing him, stroking his fingers over his hair. "Ready?" he asked softly.

"I've been ready for over ten years," Dean said, licking at Castiel's throat.

Burying his face in the curve of Dean's neck, Castiel pushed himself into Dean, drawing a low moan from both men. Dean whimpered as Castiel bottomed out, digging his nails into the younger man's shoulders. "Fuck, Cas, _move_! I-I need…"

Castiel was only too happy to oblige. He slowly pulled nearly all the way out before pushing back in quickly, taking care to graze Dean's prostate as he did so. He knew he succeeded from the strangled cry that tore itself from Dean's throat and the way his legs suddenly wrapped around his hips.

"Fuck! Cas… Just like that…" He met the next rock of Castiel's hips with his own, causing Castiel to moan into Dean's neck and thrust into him harder the next time. Dean's nails scraped over the wings on his back and he couldn't help but sink his teeth into Dean's neck.

"God, Dean," he groaned, "you feel so hot… so good…"

"Come on, Cas, harder," Dean breathed, whining and teasing mingling in his voice. He kissed the side of Castiel's face, from his hairline down to his jaw, and moaned again with every thrust of Castiel's hips.

One of Castiel's hands left where he'd been digging his fingers into the flesh over his hipbone and moved across his skin until he wrapped his fingers around Dean's throbbing length and began stroking him with the same rhythm as his thrusts. Dean let out another whine and clung tighter to Castiel. "Oh, _God_! Cas, I'm…" He panted, rutting against Castiel again, and a shudder tore through his body as he hit that bundle of nerves again and again. He felt his orgasm rushing toward him and he turned his mouth to Castiel's ear. "Cas, I'm gonna… I'm gonna come…!"

"Fuck, Dean…" Castiel rocked his hips again and suddenly Dean was over the edge, moaning loudly, gasping out something that could have been Castiel's name but he didn't know for sure. Waves of ecstasy rolled through him and the feeling of Dean clenching down on him was all Castiel could take. With one final thrust, he groaned and buried himself deep inside Dean, coming hard and filling him.

For a few moments, they were both silent save for their heavy, uneven breathing. Then Dean's arms wrapped around Castiel and kissed the side of his face. "Dean," Castiel breathed. He turned his head to meet Dean's kisses with his own. Then he pulled back, carding his fingers through Dean's hair.

"Should have done that years ago," Dean murmured, grinning. He lazily ran his fingers over Castiel's back and the younger man laughed softly.

"It certainly would have saved a lot of people a _lot_ of headache." He nipped at Dean's neck. "But we figured it out and that's what matters."

"I'm glad we did."

Castiel rolled off Dean with a sigh and flung one arm over Dean's chest. "How do you feel about dinner later?"

Dean grinned at him. "What if I feel like skipping right to dessert?"

Castiel laughed. "I'm sure pie can be arranged."

"Awesome." He pressed one last kiss to Castiel's lips. "But for right now, I'm fucking _exhausted_. That flight was no joke. I didn't sleep a bit."

Castiel smiled and let his eyes close, and within minutes, they were both fast asleep.

* * *

_"Castiel Novak and Dean Wesson are in a relationship."_


	29. Angel at My Door

Lu opened the refrigerator door and stared inside for a few moments, trying to decide if he should crack open a beer or not. He sighed and closed the door. No, he wasn't going to drink away his problems tonight. Maybe tomorrow night. And maybe he'd go to the Lord & Lady, too.

He doubted it, though. It had been a month since Castiel and Taz had broken up, a month since Castiel and Dean Wesson had started dating. Taz had barely texted him since then, which was all the hint he needed. If he had expected any sort of heartfelt confession from Balthazar Lords, he would have been sorely disappointed because there was nothing but silence from his end. But he hadn't, so he wasn't. At least, that's what he told himself.

At this point, he just wanted to forget that Taz existed. It was easier to do now that he and Castiel had broken up. Now there was nothing tying Taz to their circle of friends and acquaintances, and he could just fade out of Lu's life in the same way he'd faded in.

He didn't know why he even hoped for anything different than what happened. Castiel and Dean had each other now. Gabe and Sam had each other. Mikey and Rachel were stupidly happy. Anna and Ray had each other now, too.

And he was still alone when all was said and done. It wasn't fair, but it was what he was used to.

He finally settled onto the couch and turned on the television, idly flipping around for something to watch but finding nothing but reruns. He was just about to give up on television altogether when there was a knock at his door. Grateful for any distraction, he turned off the television, got up, and opened the door.

And almost had a heart attack.

"Evening, Luce," Balthazar Lords said, looking nervous despite the would-be easy grin on his face.

"Hey," Lu said, keeping his initial reaction of throwing his arms around Taz in check. He only hoped he sounded as casual as he tried to be. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Obviously." He hadn't meant to sound that sarcastic, but snarkiness was his natural defense against people who could hurt him.

Taz didn't appear to notice, though. "Mind if I come in, or did you want to have this discussion out here?"

He should just slam the door in his face. A month had passed with barely a word between them, no explanation, just silence. He should just tell Balthazar to go back to London or wherever the fuck he came from. But he didn't. He opened the door wider and let him in.

"Thanks." He cleared his throat as Lu closed the door behind him. "Look, first I want to apologize for not talking to you. I'm a bit of a coward sometimes. But I have an explanation."

Lu stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I seem to have found myself in a rather unexpected situation. For the first time in my life, I care about someone a great deal. So imagine my frustration when it became apparent that he, in turn, cares about someone else."

"You're not over Castiel, then," Lu guessed, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling his heart settle somewhere around his shoes.

"Far from it. Honestly, I was over him the moment he said he was over me. I wish nothing but the best for him and Dean Wesson."

Lu was floored. "Then who?"

Taz gave him a surprised look. "It's not obvious?"

He shook his head mutely.

Taz appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Then I should probably make it a bit clearer." And then, so quickly that Lu didn't have a chance to brace himself, Taz cupped his face in his hands and laid a deep, bruising kiss on his lips.

All the air whooshed out of Lu's lungs. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe, but he didn't care. Without realizing it, he'd been waiting for this moment for nearly ten months. His heart rose in his chest and he cradled the back of Taz's head with one hand, the other reaching behind him for a wall or something to lean against. Unbidden, a low moan escaped from his throat and Taz's body was suddenly flush against his and his head was spinning and his knees threatened to give out; he felt Taz walking him back until his back was against the wall and their mouths parted.

Eyes wide, he could only try to catch his breath as Taz leaned in close and breathed into his ear, "Although I could have been wrong about his affections, yeah?" He brushed his lips against Lu's neck.

He swallowed hard. "You thought I wanted someone else?"

"Gabriel."

Still recovering from that first kiss, it took him a moment to process his best friend's name, but when he did, he shook his head. "No, not Gabe. It's complicated, but I don't _want_ him. He's my best friend, but…" He turned his head and his blue eyes met Taz's; a surge of heat passed between them, flooding through him and making it difficult to focus on speaking. "I don't want to talk about that right now."

"Understandable," Taz said, pressing his lips to Lu's again.

A heartbeat sounded in Lu's ears and the only thing he could comprehend was the unrestrained want coursing through him. Automatically, his lips parted and as Taz's tongue— _Finally!_ —slid between them, he pushed his jacket off his shoulders. Taz worked open the buttons of Lu's blue shirt, almost exactly the same shade of blue as his eyes, already unbuttoned three down, lightly raking his fingers over the bare skin of Lu's chest. He pulled his lips away long enough to whisper, "No T-shirt?"

Lu shook his head, seizing the hem of Taz's gray V-neck and sweeping it over his head. "Court today," he murmured. He leaned in and scraped his teeth over the curve of Taz's neck. "Had to wear a suit."

Taz glanced over to the sofa and noted the white tie and black suit jacket, matching the pants Lu was wearing, strewn over the back. "Hmm. I should've come by earlier." He licked at Lu's neck, the gasp that he made practically music to him.

"You should've come by a month ago," Lu whimpered. "The moment you and Cas broke—" He broke his sentence off with a high whine as Taz bit down and sucked hard. Another wave of heat rolled through him and before he could prevent it, the words, a soft pleading, flew out of his mouth: "Hurt me."

Taz pulled back, looking a bit stunned, and Lu felt himself blushing, feeling suddenly mortified. "Sorry," he muttered, looking away. Gabe had known, sort of, that he liked rough sex, but it wasn't the whole thing. He got off on pain—both causing it and receiving it—which unnerved people when they found out, so he stopped mentioning it, ignoring for the most part how much he actually loved the pain. He was used to this reaction. Everyone had it.

Then he heard Taz chuckle softly. The older man pulled Lu back to face him, a small smile on his face. "I should have pegged you for the masochistic type." He kissed him again. "How much?"

He wasn't used to this reaction. He asked ineloquently, "Huh?"

"You want me to hurt you, yeah?"

Lu nodded, hardly daring to believe this was happening.

"How much?"

Bright blue eye alight with hope, he breathed, "Make me scream. Make me bleed."

With a grin but without any other warning, not that Lu wanted it, Taz's head dipped back down and his mouth was at Lu's collarbone, sucking harder, teeth scraping against the skin and bone, and Lu hissed, his eyes screwing shut. He wrapped his arms around Taz tightly, threading his fingers through his dirty-blond hair and fisting, pulling against the soft, silky strands. "Yeah, that's it," he whimpered. "Harder…" And then Lu's skin broke and he gasped, his eyes flying open. The warmth flowed from the wound, dripping down his chest.

Taz lifted his head. "You alright, love?"

"I _was_ , until you stopped," he said, grinning.

Taz grinned back and then bit down on his neck, halfway between his shoulder and his chin, as he pushed Lu's shirt the rest of the way off, managing to keep the blood from touching it. He pulled Lu closer and scraped his nails hard down his back. Lu whined, his hands flying to Taz's jeans and popping open the button. The older man kept one hand on his back, nails digging into the skin, while he ran the nails of his other hand down Lu's chest, from the bite on his collar down to his waist, where he easily opened Lu's belt buckle with one hand.

As Taz's mouth went to the other side of Lu's neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin just below his jaw, Lu moaned loudly, unzipping Taz's jeans and starting to push them down. Taz slammed him hard back against the wall, pushing his knee between Lu's thighs, and the younger man couldn't help grinding against him. He was already fully hard and losing every last ounce of control he had.

"Just let me know if you want me to stop," Taz murmured, unbuttoning and unzipping Lu's pants and sliding his hand into them, grazing his fingers over his erection.

Lu groaned, rutting against Taz. "Don't you _dare_ fucking stop!" he growled.

Taz smirked. "Alright, love." He pulled Lu flush against him and nudged him down the hall. "Bedroom?"

Lu tugged Taz toward his bedroom door and reached behind him to push it open. Taz grabbed Lu by the hair and jerked his head back, eliciting a shaky moan from the younger man as Taz took advantage of his suddenly-exposed expanse of neck; he scraped his teeth along the skin, silently threatening to sink his teeth in again. Lu keened, his knees going weak, and when his legs hit the bed, he let himself fall. The older man climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs, and hooked his fingers in the waistband of Lu's dress pants and pulled them off.

Lu pushed Taz's jeans the rest of the way down and once he'd kicked his jeans and shoes off, he pressed one knee back between Lu's thighs. He raked his nails down Lu's side as Lu pulled him down with one arm and locked his lips against his neck, trying desperately to mark him. Taz moaned now, rutting his hips against Lu's, enjoying the feel of only two thin layers of cotton between their cocks. Lu hissed, palming Taz's erection. "Taz, please," he whimpered, "I want you to fuck me hard. As hard as you can. Please…"

Taz bit the younger man's earlobe and shoved his underwear down. Lu twisted his hips to help him, grinding against Taz as he did so. Taz gritted his teeth and hissed in his ear, "On your knees."

Lu shuddered with excitement and scrambled to turn over. Taz quickly pushed his own boxers off and positioned himself between Lu's legs. He reached for the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand and slicked his fingers, glancing over Lu's back and seeing for the first time the black-and-red angel wings that Castiel had mentioned months ago. He raked the fingernails of his free hand over Lu's wings, scratching deep. Lu gasped softly as blood welled to the surface and Taz dug his nails into Lu's shoulder. Sucking a bruise into his shoulder blade, he slipped one finger inside Lu. The younger man moaned, biting down on his lower lip to muffle the sound. Before he could fully adjust to the burn, Taz slid a second finger in.

The other man cried out and pushed against his hand, shuddering when Taz's digits inadvertently grazed his prostate. "Jesus Christ, just fuck me! I want you so fucking bad…"

"Are you sure, love?"

Lu nodded frantically, fisting the sheets beneath him. "Yeah, _please_ , Taz!"

Taz withdrew his fingers, spreading them as he did so, before pouring another palmful of lubricant into his hand and coating his cock. "Ready?" he breathed, aligning himself with Lu's entrance.

" _Yes_ , damn it!"

Gasping sharply, Taz pushed past the first ring of muscle and in deeper, slowly, inch by hard, throbbing inch. Lu keened, tightening his grip on the sheets and pushing back against Taz until he bottomed out. "Oh, _God_ , Taz, yes! You feel so good…"

Taz rocked into him once and Lu's elbows nearly gave out. An overwhelming blackness swept through his mind and all he could focus on, all he could comprehend was the sweet, sick burn of Taz inside him. Sparks radiated from the corners of his vision as Taz hit his prostate again. He whined and rutted against him again; the older man set up a steady rhythm and dug his fingers into Lu's hipbone, his nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in the skin.

"Harder, harder!" Lu pleaded. He met every thrust of Taz's hips and cried out when his rhythm quickened and hit that bundle of nerves harder.

"You like that?" Taz breathed.

"Yes! Taz, just like that!" A ragged moan tore itself from Lu's throat when Taz bit back down on the bruise on Lu's shoulder blade as he pushed into him harder. "Fuck! Taz, I'm so fucking close… harder, please…!"

Taz scraped his teeth down the back of Lu's neck and, with two more well-aimed thrusts, Lu's arms gave out and he nearly screamed. "God, Taz, _yes_!" He came hard, panting and moaning, but completely untouched.

"Jesus, Luce," Taz breathed, trembling and closing his eyes as Lu clenched down on him. With one final rock of his hips and a strangled moan, he collapsed against Lu's back, coming hard and filling him. After a few moments, he sighed softly and slipped out of Lu.

The younger man whined softly as Taz moved off him but slowly lowered himself completely on his bed. Taz settled next to him and gingerly slung his arm over his back. Lu hissed softly.

"Sorry, love," Taz said softly.

Lu shook his head and smiled at him. "I'm fine."

For the first time in his life, he actually meant it.

* * *

_"Balthazar Lords and Lucifer Pellegrino are in a relationship."_


	30. After Twelve Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and fluffy.

"Surprise!"

A chorus of voices nearly knocked Castiel backwards into Dean, but the moment he recovered, he started laughing while trying—and failing—to look annoyed. "Damn it, people! _Again_?" He twisted around to look at Dean. "Did you plan this?"

"No," Dean laughed, "this was all Mikey again."

Mikey had long since dissolved into giggles so he barely noticed when Castiel walked over to him and gave him a playful punch in the stomach. "Sorry," he gasped, still laughing. "It was too perfect!"

Dean snuck up behind Castiel, wrapping an arm securely around his waist. "You can't blame him," he murmured. "We all kind of liked the idea."

People started moving around again and Castiel caught a glimpse of Anna and Ray disappearing out the back door. There were a few people here he didn't recognize, which was odd considering it was supposed to be _his_ party, but all in all it looked like all of his friends were here.

"By the way," Dean added, tugging Castiel toward a woman who looked to be in her early sixties, "my mom came this year. Y'know, since both her kids are dating Novaks."

Castiel felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. "D-did Michael know about this?"

"I think Rachel mentioned it to him, yeah. Why?"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

Dean paused, turned, and stared at him for a moment before laughing. "She'll love you, Cas. What are you worried about?"

Castiel took a deep breath. He hadn't had to meet a boyfriend's parents in years. The last time it had happened, it hadn't ended well, and even though he had a feeling it wouldn't be that bad, it still made him nervous. "I-it's nothing."

Dean smiled and kissed Castiel's cheek. "You'll be fine."

Castiel smiled back and allowed Dean to lead him to Mrs. Wesson. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she had soft brown eyes and freckles across her nose.

"Hey, Mom," Dean said, releasing Castiel's hand and giving her a tight hug. "This is my boyfriend Castiel."

His mother smiled and Castiel could suddenly see where Dean got his smile. "Hi, Castiel. You can call me Ellen."

Castiel blushed a bit. "Hello, Ellen."

"Where's Rachel and Michael?"

Dean looked between Castiel and his mom and waved to Rachel, who grabbed Mikey by the arm and tugged him over as well. "Hi, Mom!" Rachel said, throwing her arms around Ellen. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, honey. How are you?"

"I'm good! Where's Dad?"

"Oh, he wasn't feeling well, so he stayed at the hotel. I'll bring him over once he's feeling better, though. So, I take it this is Michael?"

Mikey's eyes went wide behind his glasses. "Um, you can just call me Mikey, Mrs. Wesson."

"Okay, Mikey, and you can call me Ellen." She smiled. "It's nice to meet you both," she added, looking at Castiel. "I mean, _finally_. Mikey, Rachel's been talking about you for _years_."

"Mom!" Rachel suddenly whined, flushing bright red. She glanced at Mikey, who was also turning red.

"Years?" he asked, grinning with embarrassment.

"This is _so awkward_ ," Rachel mumbled.

* * *

"Milky Way?" Gabe asked, waving a king-sized candy bar in front of Sam's face. He was sitting on the arm of the La-Z-Boy his boyfriend was currently occupying.

Sam laughed. "No, thanks."

Gabe leaned to the other side and brandished the candy bar in front of Lu, who was sitting next to Sam's armchair on a chair from the kitchen, his feet on the seat. "Milky Way?"

Lu raised an eyebrow. "Um, no?"

Gabe shrugged. "More for me, then! You losers don't know what you're missing." He tore into the candy bar and munched on it happily.

Lu rolled his eyes, smiling in spite of himself. No matter what had happened in the past year, he was happy, too. Things had turned out better than he expected the year before, and he felt closer to his best friend than he had in a long time.

Which wasn't to say he didn't wonder where the _fuck_ his boyfriend was.

"Hello, boys," a lightly-Scottish-accented voice said from behind them. All three turned to see Jeremy Crowley leaning over Gabriel's shoulder. He glanced at them and couldn't help but subtly raise his eyebrows at the visible bruises on Lu's neck and arms.

"Hey, Jeremy," the strawberry-blond said. "What's going on?"

"Not much. However, Balthazar wanted me to inform you and Michael—and I already informed him—that he will be late. I guess Michael put him in charge of acquiring alcohol for the event."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense."

"Certainly." Crowley shrugged. "No one knows booze quite like him."

"He better get here soon. You people are _way_ too sober for me," Gabe joked.

* * *

"Dad, want a burger?" Anna asked, playfully elbowing Ray out of the way as her father came outside followed by Meg and Uriel.

Bobby thought it over for a moment. "Yeah, sure. Is there any beer?"

"Not yet. The booze bearer isn't here yet. I guess he got held up in traffic. I have no idea why he didn't go hours ago."

"Balls!"

Ray laughed, flipping over the burgers. "How do you want your burgers? Bloody or hockey pucks?"

"Ah, bloody. Well, if there's no beer, is there any soda?"

"Yeah, I think there's a cooler in the kitchen. We got Pepsi, Dr Pepper, all that stuff."

Bobby nodded and went back inside, threading his way through the crowd of people and ruffling Dean's hair as he passed. Even though he and Anna had broken up months ago, he still liked both the Wessons and was happy everyone was still okay with each other. He made his way into the kitchen just as the door to the garage flew open and Crowley came in, weighted down with a case of beer.

"Ah, Bobby! You're just in time. My absentee cousin has arrived with a veritable shit-ton of alcohol." He set the case of beer on the counter, narrowly avoiding the cake only thanks to Bobby pushing it out of the way. "Did you come here for soda or alcohol?"

"Well, soda, but only because there wasn't beer yet."

"Ah, well." He pulled a beer out of the case and tossed it to Bobby. "Here. Enjoy."

"Thanks." Bobby opened it up and took a long swig as Taz suddenly appeared with a paper bag in each arm. There were bottles sticking out of the top and Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Looks like it's gonna be a _serious_ party."

"It's the only way to party. But where's Michael? Seriously, why am _I_ the one bloody mixing drinks? Don't I do enough of this at work?"

"Taz?" Lu appeared in the doorway.

A huge smile broke across Taz's face. "Hey, Luce."

"We're going to want to leave," Crowley muttered, pulling Bobby out of the kitchen by the arm as Lu passed them. "They can get a bit disgusting."

* * *

About an hour later, everyone gathered in the dining room and, just like the year before, they sat Castiel down and Gabe brought the cake out. "You're lucky this cake made out here," he joked. "I was gonna tear this shit _up_."

Sam mumbled something that sounded like "I'll tear _your_ shit up," but Castiel was pretty sure he was the only one who caught it because Sam was right next to him and he was the only one who laughed. Dean sat down on his other side and lit the candles on the cake as Mikey pulled out a camera and pointed it at Castiel.

"Okay, people, sing!" Mikey said.

"I'm twenty-five years old. Is this really necessary?"

"It's always necessary. Even when you're eighty. Get over it."

Castiel rolled his eyes, grinning, as everyone started singing and Mikey snapped pictures. At the end, after his friends and family were finished making idiots of themselves, Castiel appeared to think for a moment before he blew out the candles and everyone applauded.

Dean leaned in and whispered in his ear, "What'd you wish for, babe?"

Castiel grinned. "I didn't wish for anything. I have everything I want."

* * *

_"It's Castiel Novak's birthday! Write on his Wall."_


	31. Epilogue: Two Years Later

"Do I look okay?" Castiel asked Gabe as he peered anxiously into the mirror, adjusting his bow tie.

Gabe gave him a condescending sort of look, eyeing the younger man in his rented black tuxedo. He wasn't too happy with his own tux, either, but he wasn't stupid enough to mention it. "You look fine," he said, patting down his pockets for a candy bar. Finding none, he ran his fingers through his hair quickly and dropped into the free armchair next to Ray, who had his head tilted back and was snoring softly. "At least _someone's_ relaxed," he added quietly.

Castiel let out a quick breath and spun around. "Why am I so nervous?" he demanded. "This doesn't make any sense."

"You're damn right it doesn't make sense," Gabe said, looking a bit annoyed. "I need a freaking Hershey bar or a Chewy bar or _something_. Where the fuck is Sam?"

Castiel laughed suddenly. In the last two years, Sam had learned to keep candy bars at hand just in case Gabe needed a sugar fix. It was actually pretty cute.

There was a knock on the door of the back room, and suddenly Dean stuck his head in the room and looked around. "Fuck!" he growled.

"What?" Castiel demanded, his eyes widening in panic.

Dean sighed. "Mikey was supposed to check in with me when he got here. I thought he'd be here by now. Just hoping he'd be back here…"

"Mikey's not here?" Castiel shook Ray's shoulder. "Check your phone. Did Mikey call you?"

"Huh?" Ray blinked and slowly pulled out his phone. "Um, no. Why?" He checked the time on his phone. "Is he not here yet?"

"Fuck!" Castiel checked his phone, saw no new calls or texts from Mikey, and turned back around to face Dean. "Have you called…" His voice trailed off though. Dean was looking him over appreciatively, a grin on his face. Castiel blushed a bit but grinned back. "What?" he asked innocently.

"You… you look really good. That's all."

"Jesus Christ," Gabe groaned. "Just go fuck, for God's sake. It's not like you don't have _time_ or anything."

Castiel wouldn't admit it—not right now, with Gabe and Ray right there—but Dean looked pretty damn good in his tuxedo, too. It made him wish that he _could_ just drag Dean into the back and ravish him.

And then his phone started buzzing, completely distracting him. He took one look at the screen and quickly hit the "answer" button. "Mikey! What the hell? Where are you?"

"I'm on my way! I just… um, just had a crisis. Why? Is Mom freaking out or something?"

"No, but you didn't check in with Dean so we weren't sure where you were. You had a crisis? Are you okay?"

Mikey laughed a bit. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry. I talked to Dad and I'm ready to get married now. I just kind of freaked out a bit. But tell Dean I'm okay!"

"Okay." Castiel tilted the phone away from his mouth. "Dean, my brother says he's ready to marry your sister."

Dean blinked. "He wasn't before? I mean, you'd think he would have been the moment he _asked_ her, y'know?"

Castiel shrugged. "He said he had a crisis."

"A crisis?"

"He's been a bachelor for thirty years. I think getting ready to change that is plenty of freak out a bit."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Well, is he coming or what?"

"Yeah, he's on his way." He addressed his brother again. "When are you going to be here?"

"Like… ten minutes? Fifteen? It's not that— _HOLY SHIT_! It cannot really be two-thirty!"

"Uh, _yeah_ , bro. It is."

"Alright, hang on. If I'm not there in seven minutes, it's because we got arrested."

"What—?" But the line had gone dead in Castiel's ear. "Um. I guess he's speeding to get here. He didn't realize what time it was. But he'll be here soon."

"Alright." He flashed Castiel a quick smile. "I'll see you in a few then."

Castiel grinned. "See you later."

* * *

Mikey arrived ten minutes later but the Wesson-Novak wedding was able to get underway at three as scheduled. Even though Castiel was the best man, he could barely pay attention to what was going on—the longer he made eye contact with Dean over Rachel's shoulder, the harder it was to focus on anything except how damn _hot_ he looked in his black-on-black tuxedo. Everyone in the wedding party was in black-on-black except for Mikey and Rachel, who were both dressed in nearly blinding white. Mikey looked good, too—he'd even taken off his glasses.

But every three seconds or so, he kept looking over at Dean, fighting the urge to lick his lips. It was incredibly distracting and he couldn't help being a bit frustrated with Rachel for picking such a hot outfit for her brother to wear.

Although he probably wouldn't have been so frustrated if he could have seen some of the looks Gabe was shooting Sam.

But finally, the priest said something that sounded like "You may kiss the bride" and Castiel snapped his attention back to his brother and new sister-in-law and applauded with everyone else. Grinning, he followed Mikey and Rachel back down the aisle with Dean's fingers laced through his and Anna and Ray right behind them.

At the banquet hall for the reception, all the families and friends were already there, except for Lu and Taz who'd ducked out of the ceremony a few minutes early. Castiel wasn't suspicious until he saw that they weren't at the reception, which was his initial assumption. His question answered itself when, about ten minutes after Michael and Rachel Novak arrived, Lu and Taz emerged from the coat room, both wearing identical mischievous grins.

Gabe came up to Castiel a few moments later, looking _extremely_ annoyed. "You let me know if that Jessica Moore girl starts flirting with Sam. She said something about how absolutely _gorgeous_ Sam Smith had gotten in the last few years and I don't trust her."

"Did you tell her he's your boyfriend?"

"Uh, _yeah_ , but I still don't trust her."

"I don't think you have to worry about Sam cheating on you. He loves you."

"I know that. I just don't like the idea of her moving in on my man."

Castiel covered his face with his hands and couldn't help laughing. "Yeah, okay. Why don't you sic Lu on her? I'm sure he'll scare the crap out of her."

"Are you kidding? Taz has him almost completely domesticated. He's got no bark and no bite, except whatever biting—"

"Please don't finish that thought."

"Hey, guys." Ray appeared, putting an arm around each of them. "Sit your asses down—it's about time to start the toasts and whatever else."

Castiel laughed softly and hurried over to the table where his brother and sister-in-law were sitting. There was a spot reserved for him in between Mikey and Dean with both the Novak and Wesson parents at the table, too. With all eight of them, it was full up. And all of them except Castiel were smiling a little too wide, probably waiting for him to make a total idiot of himself. He eyed them nervously until he finally tapped his fork against his glass and stood up.

Everyone quieted nearly immediately.

He cleared his throat. "Hello. Most of you know me but I think there's a few of you on the Wesson side who don't. I'm Mikey's brother Castiel, and, um…" He gave a nervous laugh. "I'm also Dean's boyfriend. Anyway, when Mikey asked me to be his best man, I was really surprised because I thought he was going to ask Ray, since they're best friends and everything. But of course, I had to say yes because I owe him a lot. For my past twenty-seven years, he's always been looking out for me, even when it seemed like he wasn't. So I know that he and Rachel are going to be incredibly happy together and both of them completely deserve it." He met Mikey's grin with one of his own and raised his glass. "To Michael and Rachel Novak!"

Everyone drank and Castiel gratefully took his seat again. Mikey leaned in and hissed, "That was good. But I think Dean's about to upstage you."

Castiel scoffed good-naturedly. "We'll see about that."

Mikey smirked and slung his arm over Rachel's shoulders.

Dean got up and waved. "Hey guys. For those of you on the Novak side who don't know me, I'm Dean, Rachel's brother and, obviously, Cas's boyfriend. So, anyway, something you probably didn't know about Rachel—and she's gonna kill me for telling you this—is that she had a huge crush on Mikey all through high school. And I mean _huge_. Like all she talked about for the first two years of high school was how absolutely _amazing_ Mikey Novak was. And I listened, like a loving, patient brother, but neither of us really expected that they would end up married. We both figured that, after he graduated, it would be the last time we ever saw him, but it wasn't, because three years ago, on July sixth, Mikey decided he was gonna have a birthday party for Cas and invite all of Cas's old friends from high school, including the lovely Anna Singer, who is over at the next table with _her_ boyfriend Ray Burbank. But at the time, I was dating Anna and I tagged along to this party and Rachel wanted to come, too, since we hadn't seen each other in awhile. And…" Dean laughed. "It's really mind-blowing to think of how many people met at that party who ended up together. Gabe and Sam, Lu and Taz, Anna and Ray, Cas and me, and of course, Rachel and Mikey. But I couldn't imagine a happier ending for my other half. It is so absolutely amazing to witness my sister Rachel this happy with her new husband Michael that…" Dean looked down at Castiel, smiling. "Will you marry me?"

For one long moment, everything froze and Castiel couldn't breathe. Dean had just proposed. _He asked me to marry him!_ His high school crush, the boy he'd once admired from afar, the cause of nearly a year of emotional conflict, the one flame that just wouldn't go out, Dean Jensen Wesson, wanted to marry _him_.

This couldn't be real. He must have just dreamed the last three years. There was no way he could be this lucky. Not him. Not a chance.

But with Dean smiling at him like that, he realized he didn't care. Even if this was only a dream, he wanted to be with Dean. He wanted to be this happy. Feeling a grin spreading across his face and wondering how his heart hadn't burst already, he said, "Of course, Dean."

He was on his feet and in Dean's arms before he stopped to think about it and a moment later, Dean's lips were pressed to his and he could feel both of them smiling. There was a dull roar in his ears and it took him a moment to realize it was applause and _he was going to marry Dean_. Dean wasn't his boyfriend anymore. Dean was his fiancé now.

And then there was a decent amount of space between their mouths again and Dean was laughing, saying so everyone could hear him, "By the way, I'm not a massive dick and I _did_ ask Rachel and Mikey if I could steal the spotlight for a few minutes. They were both quite happy to let me."

Beaming with happiness, Castiel took his seat again and Mikey leaned back over. "Upstaged, yes?"

"Shut up," he laughed.

* * *

Castiel leaned his head against Dean's shoulder and closed his eyes, sighing happily. Dean tightened his arms around Castiel as they swayed in place to whatever slow song the DJ was playing—he didn't know and he didn't care. Anna and Ray had taken Castiel and Dean's seats at the table next to Mikey and Rachel while Mr. and Mrs. Wesson and the elder Mr. and Mrs. Novak were spinning around the dance floor. Taz and Lu were snuggled up in a far corner and when Castiel opened his eyes and was turned to look at them, he noted with no small amount of satisfaction that both of them, Lu especially, looked pretty happy, too. In fact, in the past two years or so, Mikey and Lu's relationship had gotten a lot better. Maybe it was because Lu stopped coming off as a bitter, self-obsessed asshole, but Mikey was now able to tolerate and even enjoy his presence sometimes.

Sam and Gabe had completely disappeared, and Castiel could only imagine what they'd gotten up to, but since Jess was sitting next to another girl named Jo, one of Rachel's friends from college, and looking a bit upset, he guessed that Sam had given her a definite "no" and Gabe had dragged him off somewhere to have his way with him.

And then Dean's fingers were coming through his hair, bringing him back to his own personal moment of Heaven. "I love you, Cas," he murmured.

Castiel's throat closed up a bit, but he managed to answer, "I love you, too, Dean." He did not want to cry right now, but looking into Dean's eyes, bright green and swimming with tears, he felt his heart swelling up and he said, "I can't wait to marry you."

Dean laughed, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. "Me neither." He tilted Castiel's head up and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And they all lived happily ever after._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Reckoning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/497237) by [L_Greene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Greene/pseuds/L_Greene)




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